


Three Way Love

by Jestana



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't copy to another site, Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, F/F, F/M, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 68,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29086209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jestana/pseuds/Jestana
Summary: As she figures out how to lead the Inquisition, Malika Cadash is grateful for the support of her inner circle, particularly Josephine Montilyet and Warden Blackwall.
Relationships: Blackwall | Thom Rainer/Female Cadash, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Cadash/Josephine Montilyet, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Inquisitor, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Josephine Montilyet, Female Cadash/Josephine Montilyet, Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet





	1. First Meetings and Roses

**Author's Note:**

> A year ago, I wrote [a fanfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22514962) about Malika, Josephine, and Blackwall for a 14 day challenge. While I'm happy with the end result, I wanted to expand on it. That's what I've done here. I've kept most of the original chapters (a couple of them didn't fit), and added _a lot_ to fill in the gaps left by the original fic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malika meets and gets to know Josephine and Blackwall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to establish that the attraction they each felt was there from the start. Acting on it, however, remains uncertain.

"Ah, Mistress Cadash, may I have a word?" Josephine requested when Malika entered the office she shared with Minaeve.

Nodding, Malika handed a pouch to the researcher, and then walked over to stand opposite Josephine, removing her leather gloves as she did so, careful not to drip. "Something on your mind, Ambassador Montilyet?"

"You could say that," Josephine replied, wishing she had something for the dwarf to put her gloves on. "I was speak with Leliana and-- well, we discussed how to make people understand that a dwarf _could_ be a Herald of Andraste."

Malika frowned and glanced down at herself. She still wore the leather armor that she'd had on when the soldiers had rescued her from the Fade. Looking back at Josephine, she asked, "Is being a dwarf so controversial?"

"Everything about you promises to be controversial." Josephine pointed out with a rueful smile. "Dwarves rarely join the Chantry. Why would the Maker's chosen be one, they wonder?" Taking a chance, she decided to address what she knew of Dwarven beliefs. "Few realize dwarves even _have_ a religion, in their philosophy of the Stone."

Her knowledge seemed to catch Malika off-guard, the dwarf staring at her with wide blue eyes for a long moment before responding, "Most humans don't know about the Stone."

"I've dined with merchants from Orzammar," she admitted with a sheepish smile, inwardly pleased to have surprised the dwarf that seemed to delight in surprising others. "Those few at court are happy to enlighten us. I'm sure you don't need _me_ to explain it to you."

Malika shook her head, twisting her gloves between her hands. "No, you don't. I honestly don't know if I believe in the Stone."

"That's fortunate." Josephine was relieved on that account. It would make it easier for others to believe that she was the Herald of Andraste. "The Chantry is already worried about the mark on your hand."

Sighing, Malika released her gloves with one hand to run her fingers through her dark red hair. Cut to chin-length, she usually kept the front pulled back into a ponytail, but sometimes left it loose. "I wish I could help convince them I'm not a threat."

"There are stories--about your past--that may make it difficult," Josephine admitted a little reluctantly. There was really no easy way to address the issue of her past. "Leliana was telling me rumors that... it sounds preposterous, but..." She sighed and gave up on tiptoeing around the question. "There are stories circulating that you were part of a criminal organization. The dwarven Carta."

Malika sighed again, looking resigned now. "I was hoping that secret would keep a little longer. I was, until the Conclave."

"You mean... well. This complicates things." Josephine had been taking notes the entire time they talked and took a moment to change her paper. "I was hoping-- Oh, dear." She fidgeted with her quill pen for a moment, and then looked hopefully at Malika. "Were you only smuggling, at least? Exchanging a few goods on the surface?"

Raising her eyebrows, Malika rested her folded arms on the table, leaning towards Josephine curiously. "What makes you think I've never been to Orzammar?"

"I thought you were without a caste?" Josephine tilted her head curiously, surprised by Malika's question and what it implied. "It was my understanding dwarves born on the surface are casteless and barred from Orzammar."

Malika shook her head, leaning further forward. "Only officially. I've been to Orzammar hundreds of times." She offered Josephine a conspiratorial wink. "The Carta knows how to ask people to look the other way."

"Yes, about that." Josephine ignored the way that wink made her feel like butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach. This was hardly the time or place for such things. "I _do_ need to know the extent of your involvement in the Carta's activities."

Here Malika straightened up, her expression turning neutral. "I was the buyer for fancy surface goods we sold to rich dwarven houses. Long hours, but peaceful compared to most Carta work."

"That is a relief.," Josephine told her as she took notes. She wasn't sure if Malika was telling the truth, but she wasn't about object. "Perhaps we can make your former occupation sound less unsavory. I'll handle the subject of your past carefully, Herald. I'm sure you can't miss that life."

Malika offered her a winning smile, blue eyes sparkling with good humor. "You're not interested in a dashing dwarven rogue who lived at the edge of the law?"

"A 'dashing rogue'. Hmm." Josephine paused in her writing, considering what Malika had said. There was potential there.

Her reaction seemed to have surprised Malika yet again, for she asked, "What?"

"We can't quash rumors you were with the Carta, but if a more interesting one comes along…" Josephine nodded to herself and resumed writing, making a note to herself. "Thank you for the talk. I must ask Varric to draft something."

Looking bemused, Malika straightened up and bowed slightly to Josephine. "Until later, Ambassador Montilyet."

"Until later, Mistress Cadash," Josephine replied, watching the dwarf leave. Alone with her thoughts, she ignored the small part of her that wondered if Malika had been flirting towards the end of their conversation. _Even if she **was** , she couldn't have **meant** it._

*

"Remember how to carry your shields," Blackwall instructed the men he'd 'conscripted' to help him stop the bandits. "You're not hiding, you're holding. Otherwise, it's useless."

Any further instructions were interrupted by a dwarf woman calling out from nearby, "Blackwall? Warden Blackwall?"

"You're not--" He didn't recognize her, but a distant part of his brain noted that she was quite lovely for a dwarf: dark red hair half pulled back from her face, the angular blue tattoos on her forehead, cheeks, and chin drawing attention to the light blue eyes that gazed up at him as he strode towards her. "How you know my name? Who sent--" He cut himself off, just barely bringing his shield up in time to catch an arrow from the bandits. As the bandits in question began to charge, he all but snapped at the dwarf. "That's it! Help, or get out!" He lowered his shield now that there was no danger of arrows for the moment. "We're dealing with these idiots first." He looked back at the three men he'd been drilling all morning, brandishing his sword. "Conscripts! Here they come!"

With a sword in hand and a shield on his arm, he settled into the familiar patterns of fighting, drawing the attention of his opponents because a few more injuries wasn't really a problem for him. Distantly, he heard the woman call, "Cassandra, help Blackwall! Solas, Sera, help me take out the archers!"

"Behind you!" Another unfamiliar voice called out.

As he turned to deal with the threat, he found the bandit in question already dead on the ground, a human woman in heavy armor withdrawing her sword from the bandit's chest. "Thanks."

"Focus, Beardy!" The third strange voice reminded him that they were in the middle of a battle.

It didn't last much longer with so many of them fighting. Soon enough, every bandit lay dead on the ground. Blackwall crouched to survey them, shaking his head. "Sorry bastards." After a moment, he straightened up and addressed the farmers. "Good work, conscripts. Even if this shouldn't have happened, they could've--" He gave up on poetry and fell back on plain, spare words. "Well, thieves are made, not born. Take back what they stole. Go back to your families. You saved yourselves." As they walked away to retrieve their belongings and that of their neighbors, the dwarf woman approached him, slinging a bow on her back. Blackwall studied her for a moment before asking, "You're no farmer. How do you know my name? Who are you?"

"I'm Malika Cadash," she told him, bowing slightly. "I know your name because I'm an agent of the Inquisition." Blackwall nodded. He'd heard about this Inquisition when he'd arrived in the area. "I'm investigating whether the disappearance of the Wardens has anything to do with the murder of the Divine."

That caught him by surprise. He'd kept to himself so much that he must have missed the news that the Wardens had all disappeared. "Maker's balls, the Wardens and the Divine? That can't-- no, you're asking so you don't really know." He stopped pacing and addressed the two unspoken questions in her statement. "First off, I didn't know they disappeared, but we do that, right? No more Blight, job done. Wardens are the first thing forgotten." He knew that from firsthand experience. "But one thing I'll tell you: no Warden killed the Divine. Our purpose isn't political."

"I'm not here to accuse," she told him with a shake of her head. "Not yet. I just need information. I've only found you. Where are the rest?"

One thing he'd found over the years was that it was easiest to provide as little information as he could and keep to the truth whenever possible. "I haven't seen any Wardens for months. I travel alone, recruiting." He shrugged. "Not much interest because the Archdemon is a decade dead, and no need to conscript because there's no Blight coming." He recalled something the real Blackwall had told him. "Treaties give Wardens the right to take what we need. Who we need. These idiots forced this fight, so I 'conscripted' their victims. They had to do what I said, so I told them to stand. Next time, they won't need me." He closed his eyes, remembering how it'd felt when Blackwall had offered Rainier a chance to stop running and make a difference. "Grey Wardens can inspire, make you better than you think you are."

"Well, thank you, Warden Blackwall. But now where does this leave us?" Malika, looking exasperated and disappointed, turned and walked away towards the three others who waited nearby. The human woman who'd fought beside him, an elven woman who slung an arm around Malika's shoulders and said something that made the dwarf laugh softly, and an elven man who stood a little apart from them and gazed at Blackwall thoughtfully.

Blackwall frowned as he watched them. _Maybe I can make better amends as part of something bigger. That was my intention with the Wardens, right? That didn't work, but this might._ Before he could talk himself out of it, he called, "Inquisition… Malika, did you say? Hold a moment." She turned and took a few steps back towards him, blue eyes curious. "The Divine is dead, and the sky is torn. Events like these, thinking we're absent is almost as bad as thinking we're involved." She didn't say anything, simply gesturing for him to continue. Blackwall pressed onward, hoping she'd accept his offer. "If you're trying to put things right, maybe you need a Warden. Maybe you need me."

"The Inquisition needs all the support it can get, but what can one Grey Warden do?" Malika eyed him curiously and he was startled to realize there was more than a little admiration in her gaze. _Does she truly find me attractive? Is it the beard?_

He pushed that thought away, focusing on the conversation at hand. "Save the fucking world, if pressed. Look, maybe fighting demons from the sky isn't something I'm practiced at, but show me someone who is." She turned and gestured to her three companions. The elf woman cackled while the other two simply sighed. He gave a soft huff of laughter before reminding her about the Warden treaties. He wasn't sure if the Inquisition could make use of them, but it was something, right? He took a deep breath before committing to the biggest lie of his miserable life. "Being a Warden means something to a lot of people."

She glanced back at the other three. Both elves shrugged and the human gestured towards her. Malika sighed and turned back to him. "Warden Blackwall, the Inquisition accepts your offer."

"Good to hear." It'd be nice to have company again. "We both need to know what's going on, and perhaps I've been keeping to myself for too long. This Warden walks with the Inquisition."

*

"There's one more person you need to meet," Malika told Blackwall after they'd said their farewells to Leliana. She started towards the Chantry, trusting him to follow.

She heard his boots crunch in the snow behind her. "Really? I haven't met everyone important to the Inquisition yet?"

"Nope!" She countered cheerfully, pushing the door open. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the shift from the bright sunshine to the dim torchlight. Malika smiled when she spotted Josephine, ever-present board in hand. "Ambassador!"

Looking up from her writing, Josephine smiled when she saw Malika. "Lady Cadash. I heard you'd returned safely."

"That I did." Malika nodded and half-turned to note that Blackwall lingered by the Chantry doors. Taking his hand, she gently but firmly tugged him forward. "I'd like you to meet Warden Blackwall. He just joined the Inquisition. Warden Blackwall, this is Lady Josephine Montilyet, the Inquisition's chief diplomat."

Josephine curtsied as well as she could, offering her hand to him with a smile. "It's an honor to meet you, Ser Blackwall."

"It's a pleasure to meet a lady as lovely and elegant as yourself, my lady Ambassador," Blackwall told her, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back.

Between the dim torchlight and Josephine's natural coloring, it was difficult to tell if Josephine blushed at the compliment. "Blackwall didn't have any information about the Wardens, but he _did_ join and he's an able fighter."

"You needn't justify recruiting him, Lady Cadash," Josephine told Malika with a reassuring smile. "It's become clear to me that you have a better grasp of who or what the Inquisition needs than the rest of us."

Blackwall nodded his agreement. "I noticed that everyone seems to be deferring to you."

"I don't _want_ them to," Malika replied, exasperated, ignoring the flash of fear she felt at the thought of so many people relying on her. "I just don't know enough for these sorts of decisions."

Josephine put her quill into the inkwell on her board and rested her hand on Malika's shoulder. "That's easily rectified, Lady Cadash. We have some books you can read and send away for more if you'd like."

"There's no shame in admitting that you don't know something," Blackwall told her, gently squeezing her other shoulder.

Malika nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Thank you, both of you. I _would_ like to read any books you think would help, Lady Josephine."

"Of course, Lady Cadash," Josephine replied, squeezing her shoulder before taking up her quill once more. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Blackwall and Malika both bowed slightly to Josephine. She curtsied before heading towards the office she shared with Minaeve. When the door closed behind her, Blackwall asked, "Is there anyone else you'd like to introduce me to, Lady Cadash?"

"Nope, Lady Josephine was the last," Malika grinned up at him. A little reluctantly, she told him, "Your time is your own now. If there's anything you'd like to do right now...?"

He smiled, resting his hand on her shoulder again. "Actually, would you like to join me for a drink in the tavern?"

"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?" Malika asked, raising her eyebrows curiously, though she was flattered that he wanted to spend more time with her.

Blackwall chuckled. "I didn't say _what_ we'd be drinking, did I?"

"True enough." Malika laughed and reached up to take his hand with hers. "Yes, I'd love to join you for a drink."

Squeezing her hand, they walked from the Chantry together.

*

Josephine stared in surprise once she sat down at her desk in Haven's chantry. A vase had appeared on it overnight, containing a few small roses. When she picked it up to look at them more closely, she spotted an envelope that had been hidden underneath it with her name on it in carefully blocky printing: _Josephine_. Setting the vase down, she picked up the envelope and opened it:

_Dear Lady Josephine,_

_These roses are rather small, but they should bloom with some care. I hope they bring a smile to your face whether they bloom or not, for you bring a smile to ** **my**** face whenever I think of you. With all fondness, I hope you have a lovely day today._

_Affectionately,  
An admirer_

Warmth had suffused Josephine's cheeks by the time she finished reading the note. She'd no idea _anyone_ regarded _her_ in such a light. Picking up the roses once more, she breathed in their lovely scent gladly. Ever since she'd come to Haven, it'd been so cold and snowy that she'd started to miss the brightness and color of flowers that were abundant at lower elevations. She studied the note thoughtfully, wondering who could have sent it. Josephine was so intent on the note that she didn't notice Leliana's arrival until the spymaster asked, "What's that, Josie?"

"Oh! Leliana!" Blushing, Josephine tried to casually slide the note under her writing board, but Leliana was too quick, snatching up the sheet with a quick, deft motion. "That's not Inquisition business. It's personal."

Leliana arched her eyebrows, not yet looking at the note. "Are you _sure_ , Josie?"

"If you m _ust_ know," Josephine sighed, resigned to explaining, "it's from an admirer."

A wry smile curved Leliana's lips. "Whoever they are must be in the Inquisition, so it _is_ Inquisition business."

"You know what I mean," Josephine told her, more amused than annoyed. Her friend was _very_ protective of Josephine and she _usually_ didn't mind.

Leliana held the note out to Josephine without looking at it. She plucked it from Leliana's fingers gratefully. "Did this person send you the roses, too?"

"Yes, they did," Josephine confirmed, breathing in their scent once more.

When she looked up at Leliana, her friend had a slight frown on her face. "I invited you here to be the Inquisition's ambassador, not for anyone to toy with your affections."

"Anyone who takes the time to pick flowers and disguise their handwriting isn't the sort to toy with someone's affections," Josephine countered, moving her hand to cover Leliana's gloved one where it rested on the desk.

Leliana nodded, absently chewing her bottom lip, a habit she usually stifled. "I know, but _please_ tell me if it's not going well." Leliana leaned forward slightly, blue-gray eyes intent.

"You will be the _first_ to know if something goes wrong," Josephine assured Leliana.

Another nod, pleased this time, and she turned to leave. "Thank you, Josie."

"Thank _you_ , Leliana," Josephine murmured to herself once Leliana was out of earshot. She smelled the roses one last time before setting them down and beginning the day's work.

*

Blackwall put the finishing touches on his latest carving: a rose on the cusp of blooming. He nearly dropped it when a cheerful voice spoke up at his shoulder. "That's pretty, Broody Beard. Is it for a special lady?"

"Oh, well, I hadn't decided yet," he answered evasively, keeping his eyes on the carving to avoid looking up at Sera.

His new friend made a rude noise. "Yeah, right, pull the other one. I _know_ you like Glowy. You couldn't take your eyes off her when you two first met."

"I noticed she's been picking roses," he explained quietly, glancing around to be sure Malika wasn't nearby. The Herald of Andraste was nowhere to be seen.

Sera giggled. "Yeah, she _has_ been, hasn't she? D'you know _why_ she's been picking them?"

"She thinks they're pretty?" Blackwall hazarded, wondering what Sera was getting at.

Another giggle. "Well, yeah, but there's more to it than that."

"Hmm, right." He nodded, turning the carving over in his hands. "Thank you, Sera."

Sera patted his shoulder. "Sure, whatever, Beardy."

He barely noticed her departure as he pondered how to find out what Malika did with the roses and other flowers she picked. As he turned his carving over in his hands, he remembered seeing a vase with a bouquet of roses and other flowers sitting on Josephine's desk in the Chantry. _The Ambassador? Is she sweet on Lady Montilyet?_ He nearly dropped the carving again when Malika called out behind him: "Blackwall!"

"Yes, my lady Herald?" he asked, quickly yet carefully tucking his carving into a pouch on his belt before she could see it.

When he turned to face the dwarf, she'd wrinkled her nose and mock-glared at him. "Do you _have_ to call me that all the time?"

"It _is_ your title," he reminded her, extending a leg and a hand to help her climb onto the bench beside him. "We should use it."

Malika sighed, leaning against his side. After a moment of surprise, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "But _all_ the time?"

"As a member of your inner circle, it's part of my duty to set an example for other members of the Inquisition," Blackwall explained. What he didn't tell her was that he used her title to remind himself that there could never be anything serious between them. Not just because she was the Herald of Andraste, but also because he was, well, _him_.

A sweep of her arm drew their attention to the fact that the only other people nearby were Sera (perched up in a tree eating... something) and Solas (seated at the foot of a different tree, his eyes closed). "There's no one here to be an example for, Blackwall."

"I would argue that Sera needs an example," he retorted, just as Sera tossed one of what she'd been eating at Solas, leaving a splotch of blueberry juice on the top of his head.

While Sera didn't bother to stifle her cackling laughter, Malika turned her head to muffle her giggles in the sleeve of Blackwall's gambeson. Solas slowly opened his eyes and pulled a handkerchief out of a pocket and reached up to wipe away the berry juice. Looking over at Blackwall and Malika, he told them dryly, "There's no use in attempting to teach Sera to respect authority, Blackwall. She never will."

"I wouldn't want her to be anything other than who she is anyway," Malika added, composing herself. She looked up to meet Blackwall's eyes, her blue ones surprisingly serious. "I want _all_ of you to be yourselves."

He nodded, ignoring a pang at the thought that _he_ wasn't being himself. Not entirely, anyway. "I understand, my lady."

"I walked right into that." Giving a rueful laugh, Malika leaned against his side once more.

Blackwall tightened his arm around her, stealing what enjoyment he could from holding her close like this.

*

Malika wandered into Josephine's office, hiding a smile at the sight of the fresh bouquet of flowers on her desk. Unlike the previous times she'd left flowers for Josephine, the ambassador wasn't breathing in their scent. Instead, she was turning something over in her hands. "Good morning, Lady Montilyet."

"Oh! Good morning, Lady Cadash," Josephine replied, dropping whatever she'd been examining so it landed on the desk with a wooden clunk. "Forgive me, I was distracted."

Chuckling, Malika reached the opposite side of Josephine's desk and folded her arms on top of it. "That's quite all right. What were you looking at so intently?"

"Well, besides these lovely fresh flowers--" Josephine tapped the vase with one finger, a fond smile curving her lips "--I found _this_ rose on my desk."

Malika raised her eyebrows when Josephine held up a rose carved out of wood, on the cusp of blooming, sanded and polished to a high shine. "That's beautiful." She started to reach for it, and then hesitated. "May I?"

"Yes, go ahead." Josephine held out the carving to Malika.

She took it and examined it closely, admiring the skill that must have gone into such an intricate carving. Still looking it over and finding a clasp that would allow Josephine to pin it to her clothes if she liked, she asked, "Do you know who left this for you?"

"There was a note, in different handwriting," Josephine replied, flourishing a piece of paper. Then she read from it. "I hope you don't mind a wooden rose."

Malika nodded and handed the rose back to Josephine. "It's interesting, because I found this when I woke up this morning." She removed the rose she'd pinned to the inside of her vest, showing it to Josephine. "It looks similar to yours, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does." Josephine, at a nod from Malika, reached out and took the rose, holding it next to hers. "The carvings are definitely similar in style."

She nodded again and withdrew the note she'd tucked into an inside pocket of her vest. "There was a note with mine, too, with the same message. I'd wager they have the same handwriting if we compared them, too."

"Who would give both of us roses?" Josephine wondered, offering Malika's to her once more. "Flowers are generally considered a courting gift."

Malika shrugged, pinning the rose to the inside of her vest once more. "Among dwarves, the fact that they made the rose by hand is what makes it a courting gift."

"Well, truthfully, when I saw this rose." Josephine held it up for a moment. "I wondered if _you_ had made it."

Giggling, she shook her head. "No, there's a reason I use a bow instead of daggers. I avoid using knives because I'm just not very good with them."

"If you were to make a courting gift of some kind, then what would it be?" Josephine asked, pinning her rose to the inside of her blouse.

That gave Malika pause. She hadn't considered _making_ a gift. She'd collected the flowers for Josephine more because the ambassador had mentioned that the snow around Haven meant she hadn't seen many flowers lately and she missed that. Yet, she'd continued to collect flowers and leave them for Josephine. _Have I been courting her without realizing it?_ Pushing that thought aside, she told Josephine, "I hadn't thought about courting anyone, but I used to make jewelry. I suppose I would make something like that for someone I wished to court."

"Oh? That sounds lovely." Josephine smiled, her eyes lighting up for a moment. "Any sort of piece in particular?"

She shrugged, hoping Josephine's curiosity stemmed from interest in _her_. "It would depend on the person I hope to court. Some people like earrings, some like necklaces, some like bracelets. Ideally, whatever I'd make would include something symbolizing both myself and the other person, united in a single piece."

"That's an intriguing thought." Josephine tapped her chin with one finger.

Leaning on the desk again, Malika asked, "What about _you_ , Lady Montilyet? If you made a courting gift, what would it be?"

"I have no skill at carving or jewelcrafting," Josephine admitted, reaching up to touch her rose through her shirt. "I _do_ know needlepoint, however. Perhaps I would embroider a token of some sort for them."

Nodding, Malika told her. "I'm sure whoever is lucky enough to earn your affection will treasure whatever you make for them."

"And _I_ hope whoever earns _your_ affections will treasure whatever _you_ make for them," Josephine told her with a warm smile.

Returning the smile, Malika reluctantly straightened up. "Sadly, I have things I need to do today. Until later, Lady Montilyet."

"Until then, Lady Cadash." Josephine dipped her head in acknowledgement.

Still reluctant to leave Josephine's company, Malika turned to leave, almost running into Blackwall. After apologizing to him, she continued on her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the idea that Josephine wasn't completely oblivious to the flirting, just ignoring it.


	2. Recruiting the Mages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recruiting the mages to close the Breach is _much_ more complicated than Malika expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are character deaths in this chapter, but they're temporary. I diverge from canon here, mainly to whump the characters a bit more.

"We don't have the manpower to take the castle!" Cullen didn't raise his voice, but his tone was emphatic as Cassandra and Malika entered the war room. "Either we find another way in, or give up this nonsense and go and get the templars!"

Cassandra shook her head, as they stopped on the other side of the war table. "Redcliffe is in the hands of a magister. This cannot be allowed to stand."

"The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste by name," Josephine informed them with a slight nod of her head, catching them up on what she, Cullen, and Leliana had been discussing. "It's an obvious trap."

Surprisingly, a playful smile spread across Malika's face, making her blue eyes twinkle. "Isn't that kind of him? What does Alexius say about me?"

"He's so complimentary that we are certain he wants to kill you," Leliana informed her, completely serious.

Josephine hid a wince. They'd had this argument once already. "Not this again..."

"Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults," Cullen finished repeating his explanation to Leliana and turned to Malika. "If you go in there, you'll die. And we'll lose the only means we have of closing these rifts. I won't allow it."

Blue-gray eyes hard, Leliana reminded them, "And if we don't even _try_ to meet Alexius, we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep!"

"Even if we _could_ assault the keep, it would be for naught," Josephine pointed this fact out reluctantly. She didn't like the idea of a Tevinter magister in Redcliffe any more than the others, but she _had_ to think of the political ramifications. "An 'Orlesian' Inquisition's armies marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied."

Cassandra started to respond, "The Magister--"

"Has outplayed us," Cullen interrupted her.

Malika shook her head, her smile gone now. "We can't just give up. There _has_ to be something we can do."

"We cannot accept defeat now," Cassandra agreed with Malika's statement, looking at each of them. "There must be a solution."

After a short silence, Malika asked, "Other than the main gate, there's got to be another way into the castle. A sewer? A water course? Something?"

"There's nothing I know of that would work," Cullen replied with a helpless shrug.

Leliana blinked, her gaze sharpening as if Malika's words had jogged her memory. "Wait. There is a secret passage into the castle. An escape route for the family. It's too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through."

"Too risky." Cullen shook his head, though he looked hopeful. "Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the magister."

Leliana tilted her head with a sly smile. "That's why we need a distraction. Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly?"

"Focus their attention on Cadash while we take out the Tevinters," Cullen agreed, nodding as he turned the plan over in his head. "It's risky, but it could work."

At that moment, the door to the war room swung open to reveal a strange human man with tawny skin and black hair. Framed in the doorway, he told them, "Fortunately, you'll have help."

"This man says he has information about the magister and his methods, Commander." A soldier followed the stranger in to explain his presence.

At Malika's nod, Cullen dismissed the soldier. Moving to the dwarf's other side, the stranger continued his explanation, "Your spies will never get past Alexius's magic without my help. So if you're going after him, I'm coming along."

"Everyone, this is Dorian Pavus of Tevinter. I mentioned him in my report on my visit to Redcliffe," Malika informed them after a short silence. "Dorian, you met Cassandra briefly. The others are Sister Leliana, Commander Cullen Rutherford, and Ambassador Josephine Montilyet."

Cullen addressed Malika once they'd exchanged pleasantries. "The plan puts you in the most danger. We can't, in good conscience, order you to do this. We can still go after the templars if you'd rather not play the bait. It's up to you."

"No, we can't abandon the mages after practically promising to do something about Alexius." Malika looked serious, lifting her left hand to stare down at the palm, as if she could see the mark through her glove. "Besides, I've been in danger almost since the moment I stepped out of the Fade. This isn't much different."

Leliana nodded, speaking first. "I'll speak with my agents. Master Pavus, please join me."

"Of course, Sister Leliana." Dorian lightly patted Malika's shoulder before following Leliana from the war room.

Cassandra turned to Malika. "Who else would you like to accompany you to Redcliffe?"

"Blackwall and Sera," Malika replied after a few moments' thought. "I don't know what we'll face in Redcliffe and I'd feel better knowing you're here to keep things together."

Though she looked disappointed, Cassandra nodded. "Very well. I will go inform them."

"Are you sure about this, Lady Cadash?" Cullen asked quietly. "We're not sure if asking the mages for help is even the best option."

Malika offered him a small smile. "It's too late to change my mind, Cullen. I understand your concerns and I trust you to keep things under control here along with the others."

"Very well." He bowed his head slightly and left the war room.

Josephine finally approached Malika, ignoring the feeling of dread congealing in her stomach. "Be careful, Lady Cadash."

"I'll do my best, but I _am_ walking into a castle full of Venatori," Malika told her, looking uncertain for the first time since she'd made her decision.

After fidgeting with her board, Josephine shyly offered, "Will a hug help?"

"It just might." Malika smiled up at her. When Josephine set her board down and opened her arms, Malika stepped into the hug, her arms winding around Josephine's waist. She, in turn, folded hers around Malika's shoulders. After a few moments, they released the hug and Malika stepped back. "Thank you, Lady Montilyet."

Josephine nodded. "Thank _you_ , Lady Cadash, for all you've done for the Inquisition."

"I couldn't do anything less." Shrugging, Malika led the way out of the war room.

As they walked down to gates, others joined them: Vivienne, Varric, Solas, and the Iron Bull. They found Cassandra and Cullen already there, speaking with Blackwall and Sera, both armed and armored. When they noticed Malika's arrival, they finished their conversations. Sera mounted her horse while Blackwall joined Malika and Josephine, bowing to them. "My lady Herald, my lady Ambassador."

"Ser Blackwall." Josephine curtsied, touched by his gallantry.

Malika grumbled as she bowed. "Blasted title."

"Are you ready to leave, my lady?" Blackwall asked her, holding out a bow and quiver of arrows to Malika.

It could have been Josephine's imagination, but Malika seemed nervous as she accepted the bow and arrows. "Yes, as ready as I'll ever be."

"Maker watch over you, Herald," Josephine told her, wishing she could do more. As Malika slung her bow and arrows into place over her shoulder, Josephine noted that the fletching on the arrows was the same blue as her eyes.

A smile twitched at Blackwall's beard. "And I'll help."

"Thank you both." Malika smiled and headed over to her pony, Lya.

Blackwall followed her and knelt in the snow so she could use his knee as a makeshift stepstool. It must not have been the first time he'd done it, because Malika didn't hesitate to step onto his knee so she could put her foot in the stirrup, and then swing her other leg up and over Lya's back. That done, he moved to his horse and easily mounted it. They waved as Malika set off with Blackwall and Sera close behind.

*

"Announce us." Malika's voice was as steady and unyielding as stone, but Blackwall knew she was nervous about this entire situation.

The servant took in Blackwall and Sera with a slightly disdainful expression. "The magister's invitation was for Mistress Cadash alone. The rest will wait here."

"Where I go, they go," Malika retorted without hesitation.

After looking at each of them in turn, the servant nodded and gestured for them to follow. Blackwall was well aware that the two guards followed behind them. The servant led them into the great hall where Alexius sat in state with his son at his right hand and Fiona standing at one side on the lower landing. Taking a position opposite Fiona, the servant announced, "My lord magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived."

"My friends!" Alexius stood up and took the few steps towards the edge of the landing he stood on. "It's so good to see you again. And your... associates, of course. I'm sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties."

Before Malika could respond to his greeting, Fiona asked, "Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?"

"Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives," Alexius reminded her with affected paternalism.

Malika half-turned so she could look at both Fiona and Alexius. "If the grand enchanter wants to be part of these talks, then I welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition."

"Thank you." Fiona dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement.

Alexius took his time resuming his seat, clearly enjoying his supposed superior position. Propping his elbows on the arms of his chair and pressing the tips of his fingers together, he asked, still with the paternal air, "The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach, and I have them. So, what shall you offer in exchange?"

"I'd much rather discuss your time magic," Malika answered, taking a few steps forward.

Smoothly, Alexius countered, "I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean."

"She knows everything, Father," Felix, apparently growing tired of their word games, explained.

Alexius, looking surprised, demanded, "Felix, what have you done?"

"We made sure to disarm your trap before we came in." Malika sounded cocky and even the tilt of her head expressed it. "I hope you don't mind."

Alexius didn't sneer, but his voice clearly conveyed it. "I've yet to see your cleverness, I'm afraid." Standing once more, he stalked towards the edge of the landing, now angry. "You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark--a gift you don't even understand--and think you're in control? You're nothing but a mistake."

"If I'm a mistake, what exactly was the Breach supposed to accomplish?" Malika's casual posture changed and Blackwall could well imagine that her gaze had sharpened. She'd once confided to him that she hated not knowing what had happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes and how she'd ended up with the mark on her hand.

Alexius gestured grandly as he explained, "It was to be a triumphant moment for the Elder One, for this world!"

"Father, listen to yourself!" Felix sounded like he was pleading now. "Do you know what you sound like?"

Dorian chose that moment to enter the great hall, "He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be."

"Dorian. I gave you a chance to be a part of this." Alexius didn't seem happy to see his former apprentice. "You turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes."

Malika took another step forward, clearly determined to find out as much as she could. "That's who you serve? The one who killed the Divine? Is he a mage?"

"Soon, he will become a god." Alexius explained, his tone admiring. Blackwall didn't like the sound of it. "He will make the world bow to mages once more. We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas."

"You can't involve my people in this!" Fiona burst out, clearly angry.

Dorian sounded angry as he moved to stand beside Malika. "Alexius, this is _exactly_ what you and I talked about _never_ wanting to happen! Why would you support this?"

"Stop it, Father," Felix requested as Alexius turned away from everyone. "Give up the Venatori. Let the southern mages fight the Breach, and let's go home."

Alexius turned to face his son, his tone and expression desperate now. "No! It's the only way, Felix. He can save you!"

"Save me?" Felix reared back from his father, clearly startled by the claim.

Alexius sounded imploring as he explained, "There _is_ a way. The Elder One promised. If I undo the mistake at the Temple..."

"I'm going to die." Felix sounded far too calm, but Blackwall recalled that he'd been sick for a long time. He must have made his peace with his fate long ago. "You need to accept that."

Alexius turned and gestured to them, exclaiming, "Seize them, Venatori! The Elder One demands this woman's life!"

They looked around to see that Leliana's agents had quietly taken out the Venatori guards, leaving Alexius without supporters. Malika sounded quite cheerful as she said, "I told you we sprang your trap already. Your men are dead."

"You... are a mistake! You never should have existed!" Alexius began to cast a spell with an amulet he must have had tucked into a pocket, a swirl of dark green energy beginning to form around it.

Dorian acted before he could finish, lashing out with his own magic. "No!"

When his magic hit the swirl of green energy, a flash of bright light blinded everyone momentarily. When Blackwall could see again, both Dorian and Malika were gone, with only a hole burned in the rug and a scorch mark on the stones underneath to show that they'd even been in the room at all. _  
_

*

When Malika and Dorian approached a cell practically filled with red lyrium, they were horrified to realize that it encased Fiona from her waist down. And she was _alive_ , stirring at their approach. "You're... alive? How? I saw you... disappear... into the rift."

"Is that red lyrium growing from your body? How?" Malika couldn't help staring at the red lyrium in horrified fascination.

Her voice weak, as if speaking took a great deal of effort, Fiona explained, "The longer you're near it... eventually... you become this. Then they mine your corpse for more."

"Can you tell us the date?" Dorian asked while Malika reeled at the insensitivity of such behavior. "It's very important."

Her voice still halting, she told them, "Harvestmere... 9:42 Dragon."

"Nine forty- _two_? " Dorian repeated, and then glanced down at Malika. "Then we've missed an entire year."

Malika gave him a stubborn look. "We have to get out of here, go back in time."

"Please... stop this from happening.," Fiona requested, sounding hopeful. "Alexius... serves the Elder One. More powerful... than the Maker... No one... challenges him and lives."

Malika nodded, determined to fix whatever had gone wrong. "I promise, I will do everything in my power to set things right."

"Our only hope is to find the amulet that Alexius used to send us here," Dorian informed them, looking thoughtful, but no less determined. "If it still exists, I can use it to reopen the rift at the exact spot we left. Maybe."

Fiona only said, "Good."

"I said _maybe_ ," Dorian clarified. "It might also turn us into paste."

Gazing as sternly as she could at them, Fiona retorted, "You _must_ try. Your spymaster, Leliana... She is here. Find her. Quickly... before the Elder One... learns you're here."

"Would you like us to..." Malika hesitated to finish the offer. Fiona was clearly suffering and, well, there was a reason she'd never become more than a common thug in the Carta.

After a moment, Fiona nodded. "Please."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Dorian asked as Malika tried the door of the cell.

It swung open with a loud creak of unoiled hinges. She looked up at him seriously. "You would knowingly leave someone to suffer?"

"I see your point." Dorian found a stool and placed it beside Fiona's crystal.

Malika stepped onto the stool and met Fiona's green eyes steadily, remembering the benediction she'd heard during human funerals. "Go to the Maker's side, Fiona. You will be welcome."

"Thank you, Mistress Cadash," Fiona replied as Malika drew the knife she always kept sheathed at the small of her back, just in case.

Gritting her teeth, she slit Fiona's throat and stepped back to avoid the gush of blood. She bowed her head once Fiona was dead. She tensed for a moment when a warm hand rested on her shoulder. Recognizing Dorian, she relaxed and tilted her head to press her cheek to his hand. "We'll go back, Malika. I promise."

"I know, Dorian." Sighing, she straightened up. "Let's go see who else we can find."

Thankfully, Dorian didn't try to offer empty platitudes as they continued through the dungeons. When they found Blackwall, Malika was relieved to see him pacing in his cell instead of trapped in a shard of red lyrium. He stared at them in disbelief. "Andraste have mercy! You shouldn't be here. The dead should rest in peace."

"Are you all right?" Malika asked, her heart aching as she picked the lock on his cell. Though he wasn't trapped in red lyrium, he'd clearly been exposed to it. "You don't look so good."

He didn't move when she swung the door open. "Am I dreaming this? The dead asking a dead man if he's all right?"

"You skipped over too much," Dorian interjected with forced levity. "Look at the poor man. Alexius's spell didn't kill us--it sent us forward in time. That's how we survived."

Blackwall gazed at them blankly. "Forward in time? I don't understand."

"If we get to Alexius, we can go back to the moment we left and stop all of this from happening," Malika hoped that he would understand that much at least.

He finally, hesitantly, stepped out of the cell, gazing down at her. "Maybe I've just gone mad. If what you say is true... Then this... everything I've been through, everything about this nightmare, is a mistake?"

"I should have been here, but we'll set things right," Malika told him with more assurance than she felt.

Blackwall shook his head slightly, lifting one hand as if to touch her cheek, but stopped before he made contact. "Now I know I've gone mad. To set all this right... You can't imagine the things that happened after you died. The Elder One had the Orlesian empress killed, and in the chaos that followed, his demon army invaded. The Inquisition was crushed. Anyone who refused to convert was killed. There's nothing left out there."

"Once we go back, none of that will happen." Catching Blackwall's hand, Malika pressed it to her cheek, meeting his eyes.

Blackwall cupped her cheek, letting out a relieved sigh. "I hope you're right."

"Oh, Blackwall." Blinking back tears, Malika hugged him tight.

Much to her relief, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back. After a few moments, they reluctantly parted so they could continue through the dungeons. They found Sera in the next room, pacing her cell. She shook her head when she spotted Malika through the bars of her cell. "No, no, no! You can't be here! You're dead, and they don't come back!"

"I'm not dead, Sera." Malika figured it was easiest to be direct. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

Sera shook her head in disbelief. "Like I'm going to believe some demon or whatever!"

"Oh, for the love of--" Dorian was clearly getting tired of repeating their explanation. "No one's dead! Alexius used time magic!"

She glowered at both him and Malika. "Talk sense or shut it! I can't think about him!"

"I didn't mean to frighten you," Malika kept her voice calm and soothing. "I promise, it's really me. I'm here to stop this."

Sera's gaze shifted to Blackwall. "You might not know, but Beardy does. There were so many... The day you died? I ran out of arrows making them pay. Then it didn't matter anymore. He's got demons and gods and... I've got a bow. And I just... I want them to hurt! If you're really here, I'll frigging die to spit in their faces."

"You'll get your chance," Malika assured her, picking the lock on her cell. It was good to know that some of her friends had survived, but she couldn't help worrying about what had happened to everyone else.

*

"How did Cadash know of the sacrifice at the Temple?" No matter how many times Josephine refused to give them a satisfactory answer, Alexius's torturers continued to ask how Malika had known of the Elder One's plans at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She couldn't stifle a cry of pain when the whip cut into her back yet again. "Answer!"

Even if she _had_ known the truth, Josephine wouldn't have told them anyway. "You will get nothing from me."

"There's no use to this defiance, ambassador." Before the whip could strike again, the door slammed open. Josephine stared at Malika and Dorian who stood framed in the doorway for only a moment. Then Dorian flung both arms forward and a fireball slammed into the torturer's chest. The force of it sent him flying across the room. A couple arrows from Sera, whom Josephine could now see behind Malika and Dorian, ensured the Venatori wouldn't get up. Malika rushed to Josephine's side and pulled out a knife to cut the ropes on her ankles while Blackwall cut the ropes around her wrists. Josephine _knew_ her legs wouldn't support her weight, so she just fell to her knees between them. "Josephine!"

"You're alive?" she asked as Malika pulled her into her lap. She tried to lift a hand to touch Malika's cheek, but she didn't have the strength anymore.

Noticing this, Malika gently caught her hand and pressed it to her cheek. Josephine let out a shuddering sigh of relief at the feel of warm flesh against her palm. "We were sent forward in time. As soon as we find Alexius, we'll go back and _fix_ this."

"You must succeed," Josephine told her, letting her hand fall from Malika's cheek now that she was sure the Herald was real. "Leliana is down the corridor. She can help."

Malika seemed to blink back tears, her hand trembling as she stroked Josephine's cheek. "I'm sorry you had to go through this."

"Stop him, Malika," she whispered, finding it difficult to keep her eyes open.

Different hands picked up Josephine's hand, warm and strong, followed by another voice she'd missed: "My lady."

"Ser Blackwall." With some difficulty, she turned her head to look at him, her heart sinking when she realized he'd been poisoned with red lyrium. He didn't have much longer to live, either. "Make sure Mal succeeds."

Blackwall nodded, his eyes never leaving hers as he brought her hand up to brush a whiskery kiss across the back. "I will, Josephine."

"Good." Knowing that the past year of death and torture would be undone, Josephine let herself drift away with a last breath. _She **will** succeed. She **must**._

*

From the moment he realized that the red lyrium had infected him, Blackwall _knew_ his days were numbered. He didn't know how many, but he would soon join Malika in death. Except she appeared outside his cell, alive and well, and offered him a chance to go down fighting. Of _course_ he took that chance, happy to fight by her side once more. He hadn't expected to say good-bye to Josephine, but it was a bittersweet end for the Inquisition's ambassador, surrounded by friends. Her last words to him rang in his ears as they fought Alexius. Finally, he lay dead at their feet. As they paused to catch their collective breath, Dorian crouched to sadly study his former mentor's crumpled body. "He wanted to die, didn't he? All those lies he told himself, the justifications..." Dorian sighed and shook his head. "He lost Felix long ago and didn't even notice. Oh, Alexius..."

"This Alexius was too far gone," Malika told him as he picked up the amulet Alexius had been using for some of his larger spells. "But the Alexius in our time might still be reasoned with."

Dorian nodded, still looking sad. "I suppose that's true." He looked down at the amulet and a glimmer of hope spread across his face. "This is the same amulet he used before. I think it's the same one we made in Minrathous. That's a relief." They moved towards the main landing. "Give me an hour to work out the spell he used, and I should be able to reopen the rift."

"An hour?" Leliana shook her head as she joined them. "That's impossible. You must go now!"

Zevran nodded his agreement, looking grim. Before he could speak, the ground shook under their feet, accompanied by the roar of a dragon. Or an archdemon. "The Elder One."

"There's a reason they won," Blackwall added, realizing what he must do. He couldn't cast the spell, but he _could_ buy Dorian the time he needed to do so. He turned to Sera who hadn't smiled _once_ since Malika and Dorian disappeared in a burst of green magic the year before. He nodded to her and she nodded back. They both accepted their fate. It'd only be temporary for Malika anyway, provided Dorian succeeded. Turning back to the others, he told them: "We'll go on ahead. Take out as many as we can. Leliana, Zevran, you're the last line of defense. Give them what you've got."

Much to his surprise, Malika darted towards him and hugged him tight. "I can't let you kill yourselves for me. There must be another way..."

"We're already dead," Leliana pointed out as Blackwall hugged Malika back and stroked her dark red hair. It was softer than he thought it would be.

Sera added herself to the hug as Zevran continued Leliana's thought. "The only way we live is if this day never comes."

"Don't--" Tears spilled down Malika's cheeks.

Blackwall gently tilted Malika's chin up, but she kept her eyes closed. "Malika." He wanted to see her beautiful blue eyes one last time. When she shook her head, he said, "Mal, please." This time, her eyes flew open and she stared up at him. "There's so much I wish I could tell you, but there's no time." He cupped her cheek and she covered his hand with hers. "Maybe my past self will get off his ass and tell you. In case he doesn't, though--" With that, he kissed Malika like he'd been wishing to do for over a year. She kissed him back, hard and desperate. He pressed his forehead against hers, whispering, "Live and keep this from happening, Mal."

"I will," she whispered back, blinking away the tears that kept trickling down her cheeks, leaving streaks in the blood and dirt that almost hid her tattoos.

With that, he slowly backed away, holding Malika's hand for as long as he could. Sera gave an almost-jaunty salute and gently (for her) pushed him out of the great hall ahead of her. The doors closed behind them with a resounding thud. Taking a deep breath, Blackwall drew his sword and shield. The Venatori and their demons would pay a heavy price to get past the two of them. _Fix all this, Mal, so it **never** comes to pass._

*

Malika's last glimpse of the room before the swirling green of the rift obscured her view was of Leliana and Zevran collapsing into heaps at their opponents' feet. She wondered if she imagined the single tear glittering on the Dalish woman's cheek. When the rift cleared again, the hall was brightly lit and clean once more, Venatori corpses lay scattered on the floor and the others looked stunned. Best of all was the sight of Sera and Blackwall, alive and well once more. "Oh, Stone, it worked."

"You'll have to do better than that," Dorian quipped as Malika quickly composed herself, stalking towards Alexius. He slowly fell to his knees and bowed his head.

"Is that the best you've got?" Malika asked archly, her voice a little harsher than she'd intended.

"You won." He shrugged slowly. "There's no point extending this charade." He looked up at Felix, himself once again. "Felix..."

He walked over and crouched in front of Alexius. "It's going to be all right, Father."

"You'll die." Alexius' voice broke as he slowly shook his head.

Felix shrugged slightly. "Everyone dies."

"Well, I'm glad that's over with!" Dorian remarked with forced joie de vivre once Inquisition agents had escorted Alexius and Felix from the room. They started at the sound of a different door opening and soldiers marched in to take up position along the hall. "Or not."

Two humans entered, a man and woman. Malika didn't recognize the woman, but she'd just seen the man kill Zevran. She balled her hands into fists and moved closer to Dorian, who rested a hand on her shoulder. Unlike before, the man looked stern and angry. "Grand Enchanter, we'd like to discuss your abuse of our hospitality." 

"Your Majesties." Fiona hurried over to speak with them.

Malika pressed her lips tightly together to stifle the expletive that wanted to escape. Instead, she listened as the queen, just as stern as her husband, told Fiona, "When we offered the mages sanctuary, we did _not_ give them the right to drive our people from their homes."

"King Alistair, Queen Anora, I assure you, we never intended..." Fiona tried to explain, but didn't get the chance.

Anora, looking angry, told her, "In light of your actions, good intentions are no longer enough."

"You and your followers have worn out your welcome," Alistair added, very angry now. "Leave Fereldan, or we'll be forced to _make_ you leave."

Fiona seemed very shaken, not that Malika blamed her in the slightest. "But... we have hundreds who need protection! Where will we go?"

"I should point out that we _did_ come here for mages to close the Breach," Malika interjected, moving forward to join the conversation.

Not surprisingly, Fiona eyed her suspiciously. "And what are the terms of this arrangement?"

"Hopefully better than what Alexius gave you," Dorian offered with a glower. "The Inquisition _is_ better than that, yes?"

When Dorian looked at Malika, Blackwall added from where he stood with Sera, "No one fights well for their captors."

"After this?" Sera scowled. "Stick 'em up a tower."

Fiona sighed, her expression resigned when Malika looked back at her. "It seems we have little choice but to accept whatever you offer."

"We would be honored to have you fight as allies at the Inquisition's side," Malika told her, standing as tall as she could to make her voice ring with authority. She was there to represent the Inquisition and she'd do her damnedest to do it _right_. She knew there was more than one reason for the rebellion, but the main one seemed to be that the Templars had treated mages more like prisoners than people. She refused to let the Inquisition repeat that mistake.

Surprised, Fiona stared down at her for several moments. "A generous offer, but will the rest of the Inquisition honor it?"

"The Breach threatens _all_ of Thedas," Malika reminded her, and glanced around to include the others in the room. "We cannot afford to be divided now." She took a step closer to Fiona. "We can't fight it without you. Any chance of success requires your full support."

Alistair added his opinion, most of his anger gone now. "It's a generous offer. I doubt you're going to get a better one from us."

"We accept," Fiona finally replied after bowing her head for a moment. "It would be madness not to. I will gather my people and ready them for the journey to Haven. The Breach will be closed. You will not regret giving us this chance."

As she left, Alistair and Anora stepped forward. "Would we be correct in assuming that you're the Herald of Andraste?"

"I'm no herald, your Majesty," Malika replied, bowing to them. "My name is Malika Cadash. I've been helping Sister Leliana and Seeker Cassandra with the Inquisition."

Both Alistair and Anora inclined their heads in acknowledgement. "Yes, of course. I'm Alistair Theirin, King of Fereldan, and this is my wife and Queen, Anora."

"It's an honor to meet you, your Majesties," Malika told them. "I do beg your pardon, but I have a great deal of work to do."

Alistair nodded, looking sheepish. "Right. Do say hello to Leliana for me. We're old friends."

"I will, your Majesty." Malika bowed again and led the others from the great hall, holding onto her composure by a thread. Somehow, the thread didn't snap while she instructed Fiona to work with the Inquisition agents stationed in Redcliffe to transport her people to Haven. She held onto it even after they'd taken rooms at the inn. Once she'd changed for the evening and returned to the common room, the thread finally snapped when she found Blackwall and Sera seated at a table together. "Blackwall, Sera..."

"My lady--oof." Blackwall, who'd risen at her entrance, grunted and automatically wrapped his arms around Malika when she hugged him. She was gratified when his arms tightened around her for a few moments.

She kept her face pressed into his gambeson, breathing in the scent of woodsmoke, armor polish, and leather that was uniquely _him_. Dorian sighed from the entrance to the common room. "We-- well, we were sent forward in time about a year. It was--"

"You and Sera were dying," Malika finished, stepping back and scrubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. "You were dying of red lyrium poisoning and--"

Sera moved in and hugged Malika, tighter than usual despite her cheerful smile and careless tone. "It's alright, Glowy. We're here. We're fine. So're you."

Malika held her friend tight, relieved by her cheerful tone, even if it _was_ a little forced. His voice hesitant, Blackwall asked, "Was-- was it bad?"

"The Breach was--" Dorian rested his hand on Malika's shoulder. "Without the mark, the Breach had grown in size. It was visible from Redcliffe."

Sera rubbed Malika's back soothingly. "Andraste's tits, that must have been a sight."

"No sun, no blue sky. A permanent twilight." Malika finally stepped back from Sera, glancing up at Dorian with a wan smile. She was grateful that at least one other person would remember what they saw. "Still brighter than the Deep Roads. There, you have to make your own light."

Dorian gave a soft huff of laughter, giving Malika's shoulder a squeeze before dropping his hand. "Any light we create is better than the light from that Breach."

"Agreed." Malika nodded and scrubbed away any traces of her tears. She still had work to do. "Well, I suppose I should start writing my report for the others."

Blackwall waited until she'd sat at a separate table with parchment, pen, and ink. He approached and quietly asked, "My lady?"

"I'm--" Malika sighed, feeling her smile fade in the face of his obvious concern. "Well, no, I'm not fine, but I can't afford to fall apart now. I need to be the Herald."

Blackwall nodded, fidgeting with the cushion he held in his hands. "We're here for you. You know that, right?"

"I do." Malika could _feel_ that her smile was stronger. "Thank you, Blackwall."

He offered her the cushion and gestured to indicate that it was meant for her to sit on. "You're welcome, my lady Herald."

"Blast that stupid title." Grumbling, Malika still accepted the cushion and tucked it under herself.

Stifling a chuckle, Blackwall rejoined the others. Malika watched them longingly for a moment before dipping her pen into the inkwell and beginning to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zevran is there because I headcanon that he and Laina tried (and failed, obviously) to rescue Leliana.


	3. In Your Heart Shall Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that they have the mages' support, it's time to close the Breach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing that potential future upset Malika. She _needed_ to reassure herself that everyone she saw die is _alive_.
> 
> The chapter title is taken from the quest to seal the Breach, which is itself taken from the Chant of Light, specifically, the Canticle of Threnodies 5:7.

"Josephine." She turned back from her desk, surprised that Malika had yet to leave.

The dwarf fidgeted with the handle of the door. Curious, Josephine set her board down on the desk. "Is there something you need, my lady Herald?"

Malika bit her lip, looking nervous. "There is, but it may seem rather strange to you."

"You won't know until you ask." Josephine clasped her hands in front of her. "What is it?"

Turning to face Josephine properly, Malika rocked on the balls of her feet. "Could-- Could I-- Oh, Stone." She scrubbed her face with her hands. "I'd like to hug you, Josephine, if it's not too much to ask."

"Hug me?" She certainly hadn't expected _that_ request! It was clear that the Herald admired her, but this was new. "Why?"

Giving a soft huff of embarrassed laughter, Malika told her, " Leliana and Zevran weren't the only torture victims in the future. We found you, too--" She stopped and swallowed hard, dashing a hand across her eyes. "You-- you-- Oh, Stone, I can't say it."

It took a few moments for her to parse what Malika couldn't say. _I died? No wonder--_ Cutting off that thought, Josephine closed the distance between them and tugged Malika into a hug. After a moment of surprise, the dwarf's arms stole around Josephine's waist, squeezing tight. She stroked the dark red hair gently. "I'm alive, Malika. We all are. That future won't happen. Not if we have anything to say about it."

"I-- I know that, but it was awful." Her voice muffled, Malika shuddered. "First you, then Blackwall, Sera, Leliana, and Zevran. You all died, but only Dorian and I remember that."

Josephine closed her eyes and swallowed hard at the thought of everyone dying. _They didn't actually **die** , though. They're all alive, here and now. Still--_ "It must have been painful to watch and do nothing."

"I almost went to Leliana and Zevran." Malika reluctantly released Josephine and stepped back, wiping at the tear tracks on her cheeks with the back of her hand. Without a second thought, Josephine pulled out her handkerchief and offered it to her. "Dorian, thankfully, kept a clear enough head to stop me. I-- I dream about it sometimes."

She stared down at the dwarf in surprise. "You dream? I thought dwarves--" Malika held up her left hand so Josephine could see the mark. "Oh, I see. Do you dream often?"

"I dream more when I'm very stressed, so it's been quite frequent lately." Malika finished wiping away her tear tracks and offered the handkerchief back. Josephine shook her head slightly and Malika tucked it into her pocket. "Solas and Dorian have both helped me fend off any demons attracted to me while I dream. It's possible my mark draws them to me, just like it draws me into the Fade."

Josephine frowned in thought. "Who else knows about this?"

"Only Cassandra and Sera. We all agree it would be best to keep this fact a secret." Malika met Josephine's eyes gravely.

She nodded. "Of course. I quite agree. Thank you for telling me."

"Thank _you_ for the hug." Malika smiled wanly and left before Josephine could reply.

*

"May I join you, Ser Blackwall?" Josephine surprised him when she approached his table in the corner of the tavern.

He half-rose from his seat as he told her, "Of course, my lady Ambassador."

"Thank you." She smiled distractedly as she sat in the chair he pulled out for her.

Resuming his seat, Blackwall studied Josephine as he took a sip of his ale and she fidgeted with her wineglass. For once, her polite smile was gone from her lovely face and she looked unsettled. Quietly, he asked, "Is something wrong, my lady?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Josephine answered, almost too quickly. He simply sat and gazed at her quietly, letting Maryden's music fill the silence between them. Eventually, she sighed and shook her head. "I can't stop thinking about something the Herald--Lady Cadash told me."

Blackwall tilted his head curiously, wondering what it could be. "If I may be so bold, what did she tell you?"

"About what she and Master Pavus saw in the future Redcliffe," Josephine replied, finally taking a sip of her wine. "Apparently, they encountered, well, myself. Among others."

He nodded, taking a sip of his ale to resist the impulse to reach out and take her hand. "Aye, she told me the same. Said we both died."

"That's what she told me as well." Her free hand shook and she quickly clenched it into a fist in her lap. "She-- she asked to hug me."

Blackwall stifled a chuckle. "She practically bowled me over when we had a moment of privacy. 'Course, my death was still fresh in her memory at the time."

"I would imagine so, yes." Josephine traced the rim of her glass with the tips of her fingers. "I-- she told me that I was tortured and that was why I died."

A little hesitantly, he rested his free hand on the table between them, palm up. When she looked at him curiously, he explained, "It's not easy to contemplate your own death. If you need a friendly hand or shoulder, I'm here."

"Thank you, Ser Blackwall." Managing a small smile, she placed her hand in his, her soft and smooth skin catching a little on his sword calluses.

He curled his hand around hers, squeezing gently. "You're welcome, my lady Ambassador."

"As our Herald would say: blast that stupid title." Josephine glanced at him with a glint of amusement in her hazel eyes.

Blackwall only chuckled, enjoying this chance to sit quietly with her. _I'm in so much trouble._

*

"Move!" Malika ordered them as the dragon arced through the sky. "Get out of here!"

Blackwall drew his sword and shield. "No, we won't leave you."

"You sacrificed yourselves for me once already," she snapped, pushing him back towards the Chantry. "I refuse to let you do it again."

He stared at her in puzzlement for a moment before he seemed to remember what she'd told him about the future Redcliffe. Sera tried to stand her ground, too. "Glowy, what about--"

"Go, now!" She gave them a final shove, harder than before.

Both Blackwall and Sera stumbled a few paces. Dorian caught their arms and tugged. "She'll be fine. She survived the Fade. She can survive this."

"We don't know how she survived, though," Blackwall protested, even as he began to reluctantly run away from Malika's side.

Malika felt only relief as she watched the others ran towards the Chantry. They'd survive at least. She turned to face the Elder One and his dragon, determined to get some answers. He had to start by having his archdemon roar practically in her face, clearly attempting to intimidate her. It worked, to be honest, but she refused to show it. Finally, he called off the dragon with a single word: "Enough!" He stalked forward, scowling down at her. "Pretender. You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more."

"What are you? Why are you doing this?" Malika asked her questions to buy time as well as finally get some answers.

His answer was predictably grandiose and not helpful: "Mortals beg for truth they cannot have. It is beyond what you are, what I was. Know me, know what you have pretended to be. Exalt the Elder One! The _will_ that is Corypheus! You will kneel."

"You're forcing this fight for no reason!" As if she was going to kneel to someone just because they demanded it!

Surprisingly, he wasn't upset that she refused to bow to him. "You will resist. You will always resist. It matters not. I am here for the _Anchor_. The process of removing it begins now." He held up an orb in one hand while stretching the other out towards her. She couldn't stifle a cry of pain as the mark on her left palm flared like it usually only did around rifts and her hand was pulled towards Corypheus. "It is your fault, 'Herald.' You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose. I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as 'touched,' what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens." The pain became so intense that Malika fell to her knees, clutching at her wrist in a vain effort to ease the pain. "And you used the Anchor to undo my work! The gall!"

"Why did the Divine die?" Malika demanded through teeth gritted against the pain, still determined to learn what she could. "For this chaos?"

His hand still extended towards her, Corypheus said, "The 'chaos' will empower me, and ensure we no longer beg at the feet of the invisible." Dropping his hand, he strode forward and picked her up by her wrist, holding her so her feet dangled uselessly. "I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the empire _in person_. I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more. I have gathered the _will_ to return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world. Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and _it was empty_!" Snarling the last words, he turned and flung her away, as if tossing aside an unwanted doll. "The Anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling." Spotting a sword nearby, Malika scrambled to her feet and picked it up, even though she'd be more likely to hurt herself with it than Corypheus or his dragon. "So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation--and _god_ \--it requires."

As Corypheus and his dragon stalked towards her, Malika spotted a fireball arch into the air from the mountainside. _Everyone's safe. Good._

"And you. I will not suffer even an unknowing rival." Corypheus hadn't even noticed her momentary inattention, focused more on grandstanding. "You _must_ die."

Realizing he'd flung her right at the trebuchet they'd aimed at the hill, Malika readied the sword as if she would attack him. "You expect us to surrender and kneel. We will not. You'll face us all. When we choose!"

With that, she kicked the mechanism to set off the trebuchet. While Corypheus and his dragon watched the rock fly through the air to slam into the mountainside, Malika took the chance to make a dash for the old mine entrance she'd found months ago. _I hope I make it!_

*

Though she walked with Leliana and Cassandra at the rear of the procession of the remains of the Inquisition, Josephine remained quiet, her shawl wrapped tightly around herself. She kept glancing back for some sign of Cullen, Malika, Blackwall, Sera, or Dorian. It was a small hope that Malika would be with them. She may be immensely skilled with her bow and arrows, but what good were they against a _dragon_? The sound of voices drifted to them from further back on the path and they turned to wait for the others to catch up. She was very glad and relieved to see Cullen leading Blackwall, Sera, and Dorian along the path, but very worried to realize that Malika wasn't with them. Josephine moved to Blackwall's side, "Malika?"

"Still alive last we saw," he told her, catching her hand with his. "Though what she can do against that beast with just a bow and arrows, I have no idea.

Josephine squeezed his hand, hoping it comforted him. 'She just might surprise us, Ser Blackwall."

"Maker, I hope so," he replied, returning the squeeze.

Still holding hands, they walked in silence. When they reached Iron Bull, he had _one_ blanket left. After a short argument over which of them should take it, they agreed to share it. Pressing against Blackwall's side so he could wrap the blanket around them both, Josephine was pleasantly surprised to realize that he seemed to give off heat, a bit like a hot water bottle. Before they set off after the rest of the Inquisition, Cullen reluctantly said, "Dorian, we're above the tree line. If you would?"

" _Kaffas_ ," Dorian muttered, looking as if he'd really rather not. Nevertheless, he moved to a good spot and, pointing one hand up, sent a fireball high up into the sky above them.

As they waited for some sign that Malika had seen the fireball, Josephine pressed closer to Blackwall under their blanket. She gasped when a rock hurtled up from Haven and slammed into the mountainside. Blackwall wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they watched the subsequent avalanche of snow bury the village that had been the Inquisition's home for the past half-dozen months. The dragon flew away, roaring in defiance, as the snow settled. Tears spilling down her cheeks, Josephine turned and pressed her face into Blackwall's shoulder. He wrapped his other arm around her and told her, "She'll surprise us, Lady Josephine."

"An avalanche like that..." she whispered, clutching his gambeson with both hands.

Sera chimed in from beside them. "She's Glowy. You'll see."

"We need to keep moving," Cullen urged after a short silence.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Josephine straightened up and scrubbed her cheeks. Blackwall looked at with concern, reaching up to wipe her tears away with a thumb. "All right, my lady?"

"For now, yes," she replied, wiping at the tear tracks she could see trailing down his cheeks into his beard. "You?"

He nodded briefly and kept his one arm around her shoulders as they set off with the others. As they walked along, she slipped her arm around his waist. Blackwall glanced at her curiously. "My lady?"

"This is _hardly_ the time for propriety, Ser Blackwall," she reminded him.

He nodded again. "Very well, my lady."

As they trudged through the snow, Josephine prayed to the Maker: _Please keep her safe and bring her back to us._

*

"Hey, Broody Beard!" Sera greeted Blackwall with a grin when he emerged from the tent where Josephine slept, warm and safe from danger.

He turned to her with a curious smile, tying the last ties of his gambeson together. "Hello, Sera. Any word from our lookouts?"

"No sign of Glowy," she told him, her ever-present smile fading for a moment. It brightened and turned into a leer the next moment. "How's Lady Josie this morning?"

"Alive and warm," he answered shortly, heading to the cart where extra weapons were stored.

She nudged him with her elbow as she walked alongside him. "C'mon, Broody. We all know you spent the night with Lady Josie. You can tell me."

"I spent the night because she'd have frozen to death if I hadn't," he told her sharply, annoyed by the assumption that 'something' had happened when he'd slept with Josephine to save her life.

Sera stared at him with narrowed eyes as they reached the cart and he began testing the available bows. He wasn't as good an archer as Sera or Malika, but he was skilled enough to hunt animals for food and fur. When he found one that suited him, he picked up a quiver of arrows and slung it over his shoulder. He turned to face Sera, wondering what she still had to say. "You're less fun than usual."

"Considering how much we lost, you're surprised?" Blackwall asked, now heading towards the nearby woods.

She ran a few steps to catch up with him. "No, but this is when we need to stay positive the most."

"Cheer is not my strong point," he reminded her. "It's yours."

"Yeah, it is." Sera giggled. "Fine. I _will_ see you smile someday, Broody Beard."

As she wandered back towards the camp, Blackwall muttered, "Not today, Sera."

Sighing deeply, he slipped amongst the trees to hunt down what animals he could. A half day's worth of hunting bagged him a couple foxes and a ram. Cabot thanked him for the meat and Harrit thanked him for the fur, which he handed off to one of his assistants to tan. After returning the bow and arrows, Blackwall pondered what he should do with himself next. "Ser Blackwall!"

He turned to greet the mage healer, "Yes, Miss Unam?"

"Lady Josephine is asking for you," the dark-skinned human woman told him. "She became quite agitated when I told her you'd gone hunting."

He nodded, his heart leaping at the thought that Josephine had asked for _him_ of all people. "I'll go to her at once."

"Good, thank you." Looking pleased, Miss Unam moved toward the cooking fire. "I'll bring some stew for you both shortly."

Nodding, Blackwall headed to the tent where Josephine had been sleeping peacefully. He ducked inside to find her sitting up in her nest of blankets, hazel eyes wide and worried. A relieved smile spread across her face when she saw him. "Oh, Ser Blackwall! I was worried because I had a dream that you'd stayed at Haven with Malika and died with her in the avalanche."

"No, I'm here, Lady Josephine," he assured her, kneeling beside her and bringing one of her hands up to press against his cheek.

She cupped his cheek properly, her smile brightening. "Oh, thank the Maker. I know it's silly for a dream to bother me, but it was so _real_."

"It's not silly at all, my lady," Blackwall wished he could do more to assure her, keenly aware that they were alone for the moment.

Josephine looked at him with hopeful hazel eyes. "Has there been any news about Malika?"

"None, my lady," he answered reluctantly. The thought of her sacrificing herself to save all of them not only increased his admiration for the dwarf, but also saddened him because he didn't want to _lose_ her after such a short acquaintance.

She nodded, looking determinedly hopeful. "I'll keep praying to the Maker to deliver her somehow. I can't-- We can't--"

"I know." He pressed his forehead against hers, hoping the contact would help.

She stared up at him, something in her eyes that he didn't dare try to name. Just as his gaze flitted from her eyes to her lips, the tent flap opened and Miss Unam entered, carrying two steaming bowls. "I have fox and ram stew here. I want you _both_ to eat _every_ morsel."

"Yes, Miss Unam," Josephine answered as Blackwall quickly sat back on his heels.

They accepted their bowls and Miss Unam swept out as quickly as she'd entered. Alone with Josephine once more, Blackwall caught her glance. "I will pray for Malika's swift return to us, too, my lady."

"Thank you, Ser Blackwall." Josephine smiled and began to eat.

He began to eat, too, enjoying Josephine's quiet company. _Please, Malika, return to us soon._

*

The longer she trudged through the snow, hoping to find what was left of the Inquisition, the heavier Malika's bow and arrows felt on her back. She didn't want to just _leave_ them somewhere. Not just because she didn't want to lose the protection they provided, but she also didn't want to leave any clues as to her whereabouts. She glanced back at the trail of footprints she'd been leaving behind her. _Well, any **specific** clues._ Turning to face forward again, the remains of a campfire caught Malika's attention. Changing direction, she trudged over to check the embers. "Still warm. Recent?"

Encouraged, she turned and saw a large rock not too much further away. Taking a deep breath and hitching her quiver higher on her shoulder, Malika started towards the rock. Just a little further and she'd be with her friends. A little further and she'd see Blackwall and Josephine again. Just as she drew even with the rock, she heard voices: "There! It's her!"

"Thank the Maker!" At the sound of Blackwall's voice, Malika's knees buckled with relief and she slowly dropped to them in the snow. Familiar strong hands cupped her cheeks. "Mal!"

She leaned into his hands with a sigh of relief. "Mmm, Blackwall."

"She's cold," he reported, scooping her close. "We need to warm her up."

Malika snuggled gladly against Blackwall's chest, already starting to feel warm again. "Warm."

"Yes, I'm warm and _you're_ cold," Blackwall murmured, his lips brushing her forehead.

She clutched at his gambeson when she felt him stand up while holding her. "Stay."

"I'm taking you with me, Mal," he told her reassuringly. She clung to him as he began to walk. Malika pressed her face against his gambeson, breathing in the mingled scent of woodsmoke, armor polish, and leather that she'd already come to associate with him. Feeling protected, she let herself drift off to sleep.

When she slowly drifted awake, she found herself between Blackwall and Josephine. Lifting her head to look around, she saw that they were in a tent and practically _buried_ in blankets and furs. Relieved to have found the Inquisition, she snuggled further under the covers. In addition to Blackwall's familiar scent, she could now smell ink, parchment, and flowers, presumably from Josephine. She gave a soft hum of contentment and drifted back to sleep. When she next drifted to wakefulness, she was still snuggled between Josephine and Blackwall. Josephine's hand rested on her side, just above her waist. She kept still when Josephine lifted her hand up to catch Blackwall's arm. "Wait. Why are you leaving?"

"Malika's out of danger," Blackwall explained quietly. "I'm not needed."

She shifted enough to grab his hand, making both of them gasp in surprise. "Please stay, Blackwall. I like your company."

"Yes, we want you to stay for your _company_ , not just your warmth," Josephine added earnestly.

Much to Malika's delight, Blackwall slid back under the covers with them. "I can't deny you two ladies."

"Good!" Still holding Blackwall's hand, Malika tugged it so his arm rested around her waist.

Josephine kissed Malika's forehead softly. "You had us worried, Malika."

"How did you survive the avalanche?" Blackwall asked. "We _saw_ it bury Haven."

Malika squeezed his hand gently. "You'd be surprised what you can find when you get up early and take a walk."

"What did you find?" Josephine asked, combing her fingers through Malika's dark red hair.

Blackwall returned the gentle squeeze. "An escape route of some sort?"

"Yes, it was an abandoned mine." Malika nodded, twining her fingers with his. "After I set off the trebuchet, I just _ran_ for the mine and jumped down into it to avoid the avalanche."

Much to Malika's surprise, Josephine gathered her close for a tight hug, pressing her face to Malika's hair. "Thank the Maker you found it."

"Or the Stone," Blackwall added, freeing his hand so he could wrap his arms around both of them. "If that's what you prefer."

Malika didn't mind being squeezed between them. It was rather nice. "Honestly, I don't really _believe_ in the Maker _or_ the Stone. It doesn't matter to me."

"You're alive and safe with us," Josephine replied, kissing the top of her head.

Blackwall followed suit. "That's all that matters to us."

"All that matters to me, too," Malika replied, wrapping her arms around Josephine's waist and finding Blackwall's hand to clasp it once again. _Why am I happiest here with these two?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no way the Inquisitor didn't have hypothermia after trudging through the snow on their own. Josephine was hardly dressed for it, so have a 'huddling for warmth' trope!
> 
> The healer, Miss Unam, is an OC inspired by one of my sibling's OCs.


	4. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition settles into Skyhold and Malika, Josephine, and Blackwall try to figure out their relationships with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making the scenes from the game work for a poly relationship was fun.

Josephine trudged through the snow, shivering as it soaked through her leggings. She really hadn't been dressed for this kind of weather when she rushed out of the Chantry with everyone else, but there hadn't been time to change into more practical shoes. Thankfully, the snow was shallower as they followed the path Malika set, the dwarf showing no sign of her struggle with hypothermia just a few days ago. At the moment, she stood perched in a tree nearby, scanning the horizon. Below her stood Blackwall, who'd helped her climb into the tree and stood ready to help her climb down. As Josephine watched, Malika finished looking and turned her attention to the Warden, a fond smile on her face. "You can stop worrying, Blackwall. The only living creatures to be found in the area are us."

"That's not what's worrying me," Blackwall replied, his head tilted back to address the dwarf. "You can easily fall and then where would you be?"

Malika laughed, the sound ringing clearly in the cold, thin air. "In the nice, soft snow, of course!"

"In case you haven't noticed, the snow's been getting thinner," Blackwall reminded her, his voice dry as dust.

Bracing herself against the trunk, Malika carefully lowered herself to a sitting position on the branch, her booted feet dangling on either side of it. "Oh, really? I hadn't noticed that it was getting easier to slog through the snow."

"If you're done taking in the scenery, could you please come down?" Blackwall requested, though Josephine swore he smiled behind his beard.

After a moment, Malika dropped to her belly on the branch and slid so she hung upside down from it. Then she dropped her legs so she dangled from the branch. Blackwall wrapped his arms around her shins. "Ready?"

"Yes, you can let go," he replied, bracing himself. Malika did so and wavered for a moment before bending her knees so she sat on his shoulder.

Sera applauded and cheered from nearby. "You look like a queen up there, Glowy."

"Does that make Blackwall my noble steed?" Malika asked, and then ran her fingers through his thick black hair. "He certainly has enough hair for a proper mane." Without a word, he set off in the direction they'd been going, Malika still balanced on his shoulder. "Wha-- wait, where are you going, Blackwall? Put me down!"

He continued to walk, his arm secure around her legs. "You've flirted with hypothermia once already, my lady. Best you avoid it a second time."

"Heh, good point, Blackwall," Iron Bull remarked with a booming laugh. "You let me know when you get tired and I'll play the noble steed for Mal."

Malika folded her arms across her chest with a huff of irritation. "My legs _do_ work, you know."

"We're not denying that, my lady," Blackwall answered calmly. "Just-- let us take care of you in other ways besides fighting alongside you."

For a few moments, Malika remained implacable, her arms still folded across her chest. Eventually, she sighed and dropped her arms, propping one on top of Blackwall's head. "Fine, I get it and I _do_ appreciate your concern for me."

"Good to know, my lady," he replied, reaching up the next moment to poke her in the ribs.

In response, Malika squirmed and giggled. "Stoppit!"

"Make me," he countered, poking her again.

She squirmed even more and would have fallen if he hadn't had such a secure hold on her legs. Instead, she dangled down his back, her face quickly turning red as the blood rushed to her head. Malika grinned and waved, "Hi, Josephine."

"Hello, Malika." Josephine returned the wave, amused. "Are you all right?"

Before the Herald could reply, Blackwall turned and smiled at Josephine. "Hello, my lady ambassador."

"Hey, I was talking to her!" Malika exclaimed.

Josephine stifled a giggle as he gently tugged on her legs, helping her to sit upright on his shoulder once again. She wavered, clutching at his head to steady herself. "Are you all right up there, Malika?"

"Yeah, just a little dizzy," she replied, smiling down at Josephine.

Blackwall smiled and shifted his hold on Malika's legs once again. "How are _you_ doing, my lady ambassador? You're not exactly dressed for this."

"I'm fine, Ser Blackwall," she assured him, touched by his concern.

Malika nodded. "Right, I need to scout ahead a bit. Blackwall?"

"Excuse us, my lady ambassador." Bowing slightly, Blackwall turned and trudged up towards the head of the line, Malika directing him.

Josephine smiled fondly as she watched them, pleased to see them both in such good moods. _They work well together.  
_

*

"So this is Skyhold," Blackwall mused to himself, studying the keep. It was certainly more defensible than Haven. At the sound of footsteps in the grass, he looked down to find that Malika had joined him. Reminded vividly of how it'd felt to hold her in his arms, both clothed and unclothed, he suggested, "Come. Let's walk the ramparts. I want to examine our fortifications."

Smiling warmly, Malika nodded. "I'd be glad to, Blackwall." They climbed a set of stairs that led up to the ramparts in question. She leaned on a crenel and looked out over the landscape around the castle. "It's much more beautiful from here than when we were walking through it."

"Aye, that it is," he agreed with a chuckle, leaning against a merlon next to her. "We'll be able to see Corypheus coming from miles away."

Malika glanced up at him with a cheeky smile, blue eyes glinting with humor. "On the other hand, that means he can see _us_ from miles away."

"Let him come." He smacked his fist into his palm, determined. "I swear I'll take the twisted bastard down, even if I have to die to do it."

Too late, he remembered that she'd seen him die for her once already. She shook her head sharply, her smile fading. "I'm not losing anyone to Corypheus. Especially not _you_."

"You can't afford to think I'm special." Blackwall shook his head, wishing he hadn't encouraged her flirting previously. It would have made this easier. "I'm a soldier, no different than any soldier lost at Haven." He took a deep breath and continued, his next statement one he'd rehearsed in his head as they'd settled into Skyhold. "I am fond of you, it's true, but we can't let this go any further. This--whatever you want this to be--is impossible."

Malika moved closer to him, reaching up to rest a hand on his arm, blue eyes intent. "Why is it impossible? I know you have feelings for me."

"My lady, don't." He slashed his hands through the air, dislodging her hand in the process. He hated doing this to her--them. Part of him longed to accept her affection and damn the consequences. Still, he couldn't forget that he was helping the Inquisition under a false name and she deserved better than him. She deserved Josephine. "You're the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste. Even now, there are people flocking to your banner, ready to serve--to die. We must remain focused on the task at hand."

With that, Blackwall turned to walk away, towards the stairs back down to the courtyard. Typically, Malika couldn't leave it at that, had to remind him of the modesty he'd found endearing from the start. "I'm not what they say I am. I never asked them to believe."

"But they do and it's too late to go back." He'd stopped and turned back to her when she spoke, stifling the urge to go to her and sweep her into a hug. "Whoever you were is gone. They believe you're the Herald because they need to. Without that hope, all that's left is despair. We're both bound by duty. Our lives aren't ours to live. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

With that, he walked away down the stairs. Maker help him, he couldn't let himself become involved with her or anyone. Who knew when his past would catch up to him, and then where would he be? _No, it's better for her and Josephine to forget me and focus on each other._

*

"And what else did Lady Forsythia say?" Josephine asked Leliana as Malika approached them, hoping some conversation with the ambassador would cheer her up after her discussion with Blackwall on the ramparts.

Reading from the letter in her hands, Leliana replied, "That she'd rather drown herself than help the Inquisition."

"Anything else?" Clearly, Josephine was familiar with the woman in question.

Looking amused, Leliana nodded and added, "She said she'd have us 'flogged alive' if we allied with her brother."

"That _does_ sound like her." Josephine looked resigned.

Still amused, Leliana reminded the ambassador, "Cheer up, Josie. We at least have her attention."

"You always do find the brighter side of things." Josephine managed a small smile in response to the spymaster's reminder. Leliana nodded to Malika and left. Josephine's smile brightened as she explained, "We are in the midst of cementing an alliance with Lady Forsythia of Nevarra, Your Worship. It's become a somewhat...delicate task."

Tilting her head hopefully, Malika asked, "Can I do anything to help negotiations?"

"Thank you, but I believe I have matters in hand," Josephine gently refused her help, but Malika had expected as much. Diplomacy wasn't really her job. "I dissuaded her from sending soldiers when she learned we'd struck an accord with a brother she's feuding with. Lady Forsythia... simply employs a colorful manner of speech."

Nodding, Malika wasn't ready yet to leave Josephine's company. "Dealing with so many demanding, strong-willed people can't be easy."

"It's no less intense than my days at court, Inquisitor, I assure you," Josephine countered, her smile reassuring now. After a moment of hesitation, she added as she stood up from her desk, "But I confess I do miss my staff from the embassy in Antiva. It was always useful to discuss the day's visitors with them."

Pleased by the chance to help Josephine somehow, Malika quickly offered, "I have time, if you'd like to review things with me."

"I wouldn't wish to impose." Clasping her hands together, Josephine seemed hesitant to accept Malika's offer.

Gently teasing, she pointed out, "If it were imposing, I wouldn't have offered."

"Well..." Josephine nodded, and gestured for Malika to walk with her, "I admit there are a few potential alliances it would be good to discuss..." Keeping her hands clasped behind her back, Malika let Josephine ramble on as they made their way up to her quarters and out onto the balcony, feeling much better now. Even though things hadn't worked out with Blackwall, maybe they would Josephine. "-- _right_ on the parlor floor. In front of everyone at the soiree! Who _does_ such a thing in front of their guests?"

Chuckling, Malika told her, "The Duke of Kellington, apparently."

"And there's Cole's _lurking_. It frightens our guests half to death," Josephine told her, looking concerned. "Lord Genart still won't respond to our letters!" Before Malika could respond, Josephine continued, these complaints clearly having been on her mind for some time. "And Sera! Can she not find a single overshirt without mustard stains on it? Then there's Dorian. The man _refuses_ to take anything seriously unless it suits his whim. Not to mention... Oh, goodness. Have we been here an hour already?"

Honestly, Malika hadn't been keeping track of the time. She'd been too busy enjoying Josephine's company. "It went by so quickly, I didn't even notice."

"You're far too polite," Josephine replied, looking sheepish. "I didn't intend to go on for so long. You must think me quite the gossip."

Since more subtle attempts at flirting had seemed to go over Josephine's head in the past, Malika decided a more direct attempt would work better, "Spending time with such an engaging woman is _never_ unpleasant, Lady Montilyet."

"Goodness." Josephine's cheeks darkened and she glanced down for a moment. "I'm... well, I'm glad I haven't wasted your day." Before Malika could assure her that her day wasn't wasted, Josephine continued, "Well, I've taken up quite enough of your time already. Until next time. Your Worship." With that, Josephine inclined her head slightly, a gesture Malika returned, and left her quarters.

Sighing happily, Malika leaned on the balustrade of the balcony and looked out over the landscape. "I don't _want_ to choose between them, but I may have to. _Stone_."

*

"Lady Josephine?" Blackwall's curious voice distracted Josephine from her work.

She looked up to see him standing by the couch where she sat, gazing down at the dwarf curled up with her head pillowed against Josephine's leg, fast asleep. Josephine gestured for quiet and whispered. "She asked if she could stay nearby while I worked."

"And that led to her curling up with her head practically in your lap?" Blackwall asked, his voice quieter this time.

Josephine nodded, her cheeks growing warm. "Well, yes. I think being the Inquisitor is weighing on her pretty heavily."

"I'd be surprised if it _didn't_." He sat down by Malika's feet. His hand hovered above her ankle for a moment before dropping to his leg. "I wish I could help."

She felt Malika shift slightly and dropped a hand down to stroke the dark red hair for a moment. "You _do_ help, Ser Blackwall. You protect her in the field and you're her friend here in Skyhold."

"She wants more than that," he confided, his voice barely above a whisper.

Josephine watched him out of the corner of her eye as she finished drafting yet _another_ letter for the Inquisition. "You turned her down. Even though you _clearly_ have feelings for her."

"Yes, I did." He scrubbed his face with his hands. "I-- She-- deserves someone better than me. I'm not worthy of her."

Blackwall started when Malika grumbled between them, "Former Carta here. If _anyone's_ not worthy, it's _me_."

"You're the Inquisitor now," Josephine replied, setting her work aside. She'd felt the hitch in Malika's breathing when Blackwall sat down and had known she was awake. "I imagine that will carry a _great_ deal of weight with most people now."

Blackwall looked away, into the fire in the fireplace. "You have duties now as the Inquisitor. You can't afford to be distracted."

"By you or just _any_ relationship?" Malika practically demanded, pushing herself up into a sitting position to better look at him.

Josephine shifted her position on the couch, very curious about Blackwall's answer. "Yes, which is it, Ser Blackwall?"

"I--" he hesitated, looking from one to the other. Sighing, he said, "You should focus your attentions on Lady Josephine, Lady Malika."

With that, he stood up and walked quickly from the room. Malika watched him go, and then turned to Josephine. "Is there something _wrong_ with me?"

"No, Malika," Josephine replied, hugging the dwarf gently. "I think it's just the idea of becoming involved with the _Inquisitor_ that's unsettled him. Give him time and he'll come around."

Malika clung to Josephine, shaking a little. "I know we haven't known each other long, but I feel safest with both of you. I wish I didn't have to choose."

"So _don't_ choose," Josephine suggested, feeling her heartbeat speed up in her chest at the audacity of her suggestion. She'd wondered if there'd been anything to Malika's compliments besides idle amusement.

Malika sat very still for a few moments, and then she slowly sat back and _stared_ at Josephine. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Josephine?"

"Yes, I am." Josephine met the beautiful blue eyes calmly and steadily. "I know you're the one who's been leaving the flowers on my desk. Except for the wooden one."

Though she blushed, Malika giggled and told her, "Yeah, you already know that knives are _not_ my friends."

"I know." Laughing softly, Josephine kissed her forehead. "Blackwall, though, has been carving toys for the children."

A fond smile lit Malika's face. "He's just started a large woodworking project in the barn." Turning thoughtful, she asked, "You wouldn't mind sharing?"

"You're not the only one who's found herself attracted to two different people," Josephine admitted with a shy smile. Blackwall had been there for her when she'd been upset about what Malika had told her about her fate in the alternate Redcliffe. He'd held her when they thought Malika had died in the avalanche. Not to mention that he'd helped her when hypothermia had almost taken her life.

Another smile, brighter this time. "Now we need to convince _Blackwall_ that we don't _care_ if he's worthy or not."

"We want _him_ ," Josephine added, firm and determined. "But, first--" Gently cupping Malika's cheek, she leaned down to kiss her.

When she lifted her head, Malika made a noise of protest and cupped the back of her neck, "Come back here." She drew Josephine down for another kiss. And another.

*

"I hope you can forgive me for pushing you away," Blackwall told Malika when she visited him in the stables the next day.

Malika smiled reassuringly up at him. "I'm sure you had your reasons."

"But I can't just ask you to trust my reasons blindly," he replied, touched by her willingness to accept that he had reasons even if she didn't know what they were. "I... owe you an explanation for what I did. But not here."

Still smiling, she told him: "If it's important to you, then it's important to me."

"I hear we're to go back to the Storm Coast to deal with darkspawn incursions," Blackwall explained before he could lose his nerve. "I'd hoped, while we're there, to explain fully."

Malika nodded. "You're correct and that's what we'll do, then."

"The Warden-Constable's badge," Blackwall murmured a week later, surprised it had survived all this time in the elements, especially given the constant rain.

Malika's voice reminded him why they were there, "You mean _your_ badge."

"Yes, I suppose it must be." The lie came more easily, the truth stuck in his throat. "After all, I _did_ earn it. I shouldn't have let it go so easily." He gestured to the scattered bones and abandoned weapons around them, badge in hand. "This was my life before I met you. Crumbling ruins. Endless battles. Death."

He turned to look down at her, trying to impress upon her that there could be nothing between them. "You know, I see my fair share of ruins and death, too. Maybe that means we're perfect for each other."

"You tease, but..." Blackwall hesitated for a long moment, trying to get the words out, but the truth still refused to come. He couldn't bear to see the warmth and fondness fade from her beautiful blue eyes. "There's nothing more for me here, but we can talk back at Skyhold, and I... I have to think."

Malika nodded her acceptance and they began picking their way back towards the camp where the Iron Bull and Solas waited.

*

Though Josephine slept peacefully on the couch before the fire, Malika was too agitated to sit still. Instead, she paced her rooms restlessly, unable to stop thinking about the incident on the Storm Coast with Blackwall. She couldn't shake the feeling that he'd meant to tell her more, but hadn't for some reason. Something caught her attention on the balcony and she smiled when she spotted Blackwall standing in the doorway, watching her. "I _knew_ you couldn't stay away."

"No, I couldn't," Blackwall confirmed with an exasperated sigh, whether at herself or him, she couldn't tell. "If only you knew how confounding you are," he mused thoughtfully, clearly admiring her. "How impossibly infuriating." Straightening up, he started walking towards her. She remained where she was, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. "I wanted to thank you for accompanying me to that ruin. I wanted to-- I just had to see you."

Coming to a stop before Malika, Blackwall gazed down at her, grey eyes turned gold by the firelight. Without warning, he bent to kiss her, just as she'd been longing to do since Redcliffe. She gasped at the suddenness of the kiss, but melted into it the next moment, responding eagerly. When he lifted his head, Malika opened her eyes and asked, "Why'd you stop?"

"This is wrong," he explained, not quite meeting her eyes, but neither did he release her, either. "I shouldn't even be here."

Malika raised her eyebrows with a cheeky smile, hoping to make him laugh. "What's the problem? A vow of celibacy? A dead wife?"

"No, it's nothing like that." Blackwall shook his head, still serious. "I'm not what you want. I could never be what you deserve."

She gave a sigh of exasperation and rolled her eyes. " _I_ decide what I deserve, not you."

"There's nothing I can offer you," he told her, his voice rough with emotion. "You'd have no life with me."

Unexpectedly, a voice spoke up from the couch that faced the fireplace. They turned to see Josephine peering at them over the back of the couch, black hair pulled back into a single thick braid. "At the moment, Ser Blackwall, all our lives are tied up with the Inquisition."

"If you're talking about _afterwards_ ," Malika added, her smile turning rueful. "We don't know when that will happen or even if we'll survive this fight after all."

Blackwall looked back and forth between them, clearly confused, but he still didn't let her go. "You survived an _avalanche_ , Malika."

"Through sheer dumb luck," Josephine pointed out, standing up to lean one hip against the arm of the couch. Her elegant clothes were creased and rumpled from her impromptu nap.

Malika reached up to cup his cheek. "We don't _know_ what will happen, Blackwall. I won't give up on either of you because of what _might_ happen who-knows-when."

"Either? What--" he stopped and stared as Josephine walked over to join them, taking one of his hands and one of Malika's.

Hazel eyes gazed at him steadily. "Mal and I have realized that we care for _you_ as well as each other, Ser Blackwall."

"So we're wondering how _you_ feel about _us_?" Malika added, tangling her fingers with Josephine's.

Blackwall visibly swallowed, looking back and forth between them. They remained silent as he thought about what they'd told them. "I-- are you _sure_ about this, my ladies?"

"We are, yes," Josephine assured him, giving his hand a squeeze.

Malika caught his free hand with hers and pressed a kiss to the back, his reaction giving her hope. "If you need time to think about it and get used to the idea, we'll give you that."

"Yes, I--" he nodded slowly, squeezing their hands. "I _do_ need time."

Josephine nodded and moved closer. "Before you go, may I have a kiss? Like the one you gave Mal? It was a _very_ lovely sight to wake up to."

"It's only fair," Malika agreed, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of watching them together. That was something she hadn't considered yet.

Gently releasing Malika's hand, Blackwall rested his hands on Josephine's waist and drew her into a kiss, clearly as passionate and desperate as the kiss he'd given Malika. Josephine melted into the kiss, her arms slipping around his waist as she responded eagerly. Visibly reluctant, Blackwall ended it, his hands remaining on her waist. "Happy, my lady?"

"For now." Josephine stroked his cheek lightly, looking quite flushed now. "Thank you."

Malika glanced between them, her heartbeat racing now. "That was _hot_."

"I'll try not to take too long to think," he told them, dropping his hands from Josephine's waist.

Malika slipped her arm around Josephine's waist the next moment. Josephine smiled as she slipped her arm around Malika's shoulders. "You'll know where to find us, Ser Blackwall."

"You'll always be welcome," Malika added, looking him over, almost wishing his gambeson was a little shorter.

Clearing his throat, he nodded and took several steps back. "Good night, my ladies."

"Good night, Ser Blackwall. "Good night, Blackwall."

With that, he turned and left the way he'd come, climbing over the balcony railing and disappearing from view. Malika turned to Josephine, smiling when the ambassador cupped her cheek with her free hand. Without a word, she stretched up to meet Josephine's hungry kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In game, Malika had to reject him in that last scene and she looked so _sad_.


	5. Both is Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malika, Blackwall, and Josephine embark on their relationship together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the start of the relationship, our heroes deal with the reality of long periods of separation.

"Inquisitor, I must speak with you." Josephine stood up from her desk as Malika approached a few days after they asked Blackwall about joining their relationship.

Concerned, Malika stepped closer and asked, "What is it?"

"I..." Uncharacteristically, Josephine hesitated, searching for the right words to explain. Malika waited patiently, something Josephine quite appreciated about the new Inquisitor. Despite her past as a Carta agent and relative youth, Malika had proven to be patient and thoughtful, always asking questions to fully understand a situation and giving people the chance to explain themselves. Finally, Josephine steeled herself. "First, I must explain something about the Montilyets' fortunes."

Malika raised her eyebrows, clearly surprised by the seeming non-sequitur. Still, her response was encouraging, demonstrating that she'd paid attention when Josephine had told her about herself and her family back in Haven: "I remember you said your family had been forbidden from trading in Orlais."

"It devastated our finances," Josephine admitted this reluctantly. It was a source of mortification for her family. Well, except for her father and youngest sister. They only cared about their art. "The Montilyets have, in fact, been in debt for over a hundred years."

Looking concerned, Malika reached up and took Josephine's hand in both of hers. "I had no idea your family situation was so precarious."

"Hardly anyone outside the family does." Squeezing Malika's hand gently, Josephine released it as she began to pace, agitated by the need to tell her this. Though, given the recent change in their relationship, this would have been necessary eventually. "For generations, we've done everything to keep creditors at bay. Sold our land to stave off interest." Stopping, she sighed deeply. "It's just... it is infuriating to see my family reduced to this." She resumed pacing, unable to stand still as she talked about their situation. "I'm to become head of our house. If I sell any more of our land, my family will become destitute. That _cannot_ be my legacy to them!"

Closing the distance between them, Malika took her hand once more, gently saying, "You're telling me this for a reason, Josie. Is there anything I can do or has something happened?"

"I'd almost solved our problems. For awhile." She squeezed Malika's hand again, keeping hold of it as she finally explained why she was sharing this information. "I negotiated a chance to reinstate the Montilyets as landed traders in Orlais. We could rebuild with that. But, when I dispatched paperwork to Val Royeaux..." she stopped for a moment and sighed deeply. "I've just learned that my carriers were murdered. And the documents restoring my family's trading status were destroyed."

Malika squeezed her hand, her expression sympathetic, but a glint of anger in her blue eyes. "Who hates the Montilyets enough to do that?"

"Leliana made inquiries that bore success," Josephine replied, managing a faint smile at the dwarf's mix of sympathy and anger on her behalf. "Comte Boisvert, a nobleman in Val Royeaux, claims to know who killed my messengers. He has a request: that you come when I meet him, so he's seen 'publicly conferring' with you."

Frowning with puzzlement, Malika asked, "What will being seen with me gain the comte?"

"The Comte will drop hints at parties he's to meet with an important visitor." Josephine supposed this was as good a time as any to begin explaining the intricacies of the Game to Malika. She would need to learn how to play it for when they attended the ball at the Winter Palace. "Allies and rivals will take note. Once he's met you, there will be speculation. The comte will surely spin reports to his advantage." She stifled a sigh. Somehow, the Game was more fun when her family's fortunes weren't at stake. "He _will_ use us, but if he knows who killed my people, I ask that we indulge him."

Malika nodded, her chin taking on the determined set that Josephine had noticed when she'd set out for Redcliffe Castle and again when she'd decided to face the Elder One to give everyone time to escape. "If it means getting to the bottom of this mess and finding out who wants you dead, I'll meet this Comte with you."

"Thank you, Mal!" Smiling brightly, relieved that she was willing to help, Josephine bent to hug Malika tight. "It means..." she couldn't explain fully how much it meant to her and simply finished: "You are too kind. I _must_ know who killed my couriers just to harm my family."

Malika returned the hug, her voice still determined. "And we _will_ find out."

"Thank you again." Josephine gently eased back from the hug and kissed Malika, light and swift. "If you'll excuse me, I must make arrangements for our trip."

*

As he finished packing his bag, Blackwall wondered how he'd ended up volunteering to escort Malika and Josephine to Val Royeaux. _The absolutely **last** place I want to be in all Thedas and I **volunteered** to go there. How did that happen?_

It'd started with a simple question to Josephine: "Are you going to take any soldiers with you for protection, my lady?"

"Do you think we should, Ser Blackwall?" Josephine asked, looking surprised. "We're only going to Val Royeaux, after all."

He folded his arms across his chest, thought better of it, and dropped his hands to his sides. He didn't want to seem imposing, not to Josephine. "The roads aren't entirely safe, my lady Ambassador. Neither is Val Royeaux. It's the center of the Game, after all."

"I do not wish to have too large a group for such a minor trip," Josephine informed him, fidgeting with the papers on her board.

After a moment of internal debate, he lightly grasped her upper arm. "If the Inquisitor is joining you, then having a few guards with you would be best. She may be one of the best archers I've ever seen, but that won't help if a bandit gets in close."

"You've done such a good job of protecting her in the field, I'm surprised you're willing to leave it to someone else now." She glanced at him curiously, and then looked away.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and resisted the impulse to lick his lips, remembering the kisses he'd shared with her and Malika. "It... might not be a good idea for me to be alone with you two ladies."

"We'll spend the majority of next few days on the road," she reminded him, a small smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. "In a carriage, no less."

Blackwall raised his eyebrows, amused that she thought being in a carriage would stop him from wanting either of them. "What about in Val Royeaux itself?"

"I'd already planned to book one room for myself and Mal," Josephine told him, her smile growing. "I can easily book a separate one for you."

Stifling a sigh, but not a reluctant smile, he nodded. "Very well, I will go to Val Royeaux with you and Lady Malika."

"Thank you, Ser Blackwall!" She favored him with a full smile then, one that hit him harder than any enemy weapon could. "It is most kind of you to come with us to Val Royeaux."

"Anything to keep you and the Inquisitor safe, Lady Josephine." Blackwall bowed to Josephine and turned to head to his quarters and pack a bag. He'd just stepped into the great hall when the full impact of what he'd agreed to hit him. _Wait, how did that happen?_

Later, when he climbed into the carriage after stowing his bag with the rest of the luggage, both Malika and Josephine favored him with warm smiles of greeting. He settled into the seat opposite them, trying not to notice that both wore the roses he'd carved for them. _Well, there's no one else I'd trust with their safety except Cullen or Cassandra and they have other duties._ He sternly ignored the little voice that suggested he just wanted to spend time with them away from everyone else.

*

Malika raised her eyebrows when she opened the door to the room she and Josephine shared in Val Royeaux to find Blackwall waiting on the other side. "My lady. May I come in?"

"Of course." She stepped back so he could enter. As Malika closed the door, she raised her voice enough for Josephine to hear. "Josie, we have a visitor."

Looking up from the work she'd been doing at the tiny table, Josephine gasped and quickly crossed the room to hug Blackwall tightly, burying her face in his gambeson. "I'm _so_ sorry, Ser Blackwall. If I'd known this would put you and Mal in danger..."

"It's not your fault, Lady Josephine." He hugged her back, pressing his face into her black hair. "You couldn't have _known_ this would happen."

Nodding, Malika gently guided them towards the nest of pillows and blankets she'd made in front of the fireplace. "That's what _I_ said. Besides, he didn't _actually_ try to kill her."

"Thank you for _not_ killing him, Mal," Josephine replied, sinking down into the nest with a small smile.

Blackwall removed his boots and gloves before sitting down beside Josephine. "I'm not sure that was wise, though."

"He didn't even _try_ to attack Josie," Malika reminded him, sitting down on Josephine's other side with a contented sigh. "It would've been bad form to attack him for something he _didn't_ do."

Josephine nodded, winding her arm around Malika's shoulders when she leaned against Josephine's side. "Mal's right. I don't want more people to die because of me."

"We may not be able to avoid that, my lady Josephine." Blackwall told her in a quiet rumble. "Not if we follow your plan to elevate the Du Paraquettes to nobility."

Malika pressed closer to Josephine at the thought of assassins attacking her. "We'll keep you safe until this situation is resolved."

"I know you will, Mal." Josephine smiled fondly down at Malika, lightly tracing the tattoo on one of her cheeks. "I have no doubt that Leliana and Cullen will do their part, too."

Blackwall cleared his throat, sitting as tall as he could amongst the pillows and blankets. "My ladies, I came to see you for a slightly different reason."

"Oh?" Reluctantly, Malika sat up and found a spot where she could see Blackwall properly. "What is it?"

Josephine shifted position as well, folding her slim, elegant hands in her lap. "We're all ears, Ser Blackwall."

"I've, um, thought about what you told me," he began, looking uncomfortable but determined. "About being attracted to each other _and_ me."

Malika nodded, exchanging a quick glance with Josephine. "I'm assuming you're bringing this up for a reason."

"Hush, Mal," Josephine gently rebuked her.

A smile twitched at Blackwall's mouth. "Yes, I'm bringing it up because I don't want to choose either. I don't know why either of you _wants_ me, but I'll be yours if you'll have me."

" _If_ we'll have you?" Malika scoffed. "Of _course_ we'll have you."

Josephine laughed and gave her a nudge. "Go on and kiss him, Mal. I know you want to."

"Yes, my lady." Blackwall smiled and opened his arms to welcome her.

Grinning, Malika scrambled into his lap and pulled Blackwall's head down to hers for an eager, enthusiastic kiss. When they parted to catch their breath, Malika pressed her forehead against his. " _Thank_ you, Blackwall."

"My turn?" Josephine requested, managing to sound both patient and impatient at the same time.

Reluctantly, Malika moved to Blackwall's side so Josephine could scoot forward and kiss him, too. Afterwards, his forehead pressed against Josephine's, Blackwall lifted her hand to kiss the back. "Thank you, Lady Josephine."

"Josie," Malika corrected him, wrapping an arm around each of them.

When he looked at Josephine, she nodded. "Please call me Josie."

"My lady Josie," he replied, kissing her softly.

Malika rolled her eyes. "Close enough."

"Better than 'my lady Ambassador,'" Josephine mused, nestling against them.

Blackwall wrapped an arm around each of them as well. "Indeed."

"Consider yourself always welcome in my quarters now, Blackwall," Malika told him as they all cuddled together amongst the blankets. "Unless I say otherwise, you can come and go as you please, even if I'm not at Skyhold."

Josephine laughed softly at his surprise. "She said much the same to me."

"I'm honored, my lady Mal." He tightened the arm he had around her waist.

She gave a sigh of exasperation, but didn't object any further, content to fall asleep with them in front of the fire. _I don't know who to thank for this good fortune, but I doubt it really matters. He's here and **that's** what matters._

*

"I have something for you, Josie," Leliana told her friend in lieu of a greeting.

She looked up from her work curiously. "What is it, Leliana?"

"A letter," her friend told her, holding it up for Josephine to see.

She smiled when she saw the handwriting on the envelope. "Oh, thank you, Leliana."

"This is from the Inquisitor," Leliana remarked, her tone studiously casual. " _And_ Ser Blackwall."

Josephine stifled a sigh. She should have known Leliana wouldn't leave it that. "Yes, I'm sure it is. May I have my letter, please?"

"It's not gone unnoticed that the three of you have been spending a great deal of time together," Leliana placed the letter in Josephine's hand, blue-gray eyes meeting hazel. "I asked you to join because you're a good ambassador, _not_ to have your heart and affections toyed with."

"I'm touched and honored by your concern, Leliana," Josephine replied, her words absolutely sincere. "However, Mal, Blackwall, and I are all adults who discussed what and who we wanted before we became involved."

Sighing, Leliana paced across the room and back. "I don't want to see you hurt, Josie."

"It's not that different from _your_ situation." She couldn't resist pointing this fact out to Leliana, even though it caused the Spymaster to wince. Both of her lovers were absent for Reasons. Laina had left on a quest of her own and her letters were few and _very_ far apart. Zevran wrote more often, but his letters were still sporadic, depending on whether he needed to remain incognito.

A heavy sigh and Leliana looked earnestly at her friend. "You know I have very few true friends, Josie. I don't want to lose any if I can help it."

"I'm happiest with both of them," Josephine confided, hoping it would reassure Leliana. "I can't say why both. I just... do."

A rare smile lit Leliana's face and she walked over to hug Josephine. "If you're happy, Josie, that's enough for me."

"Thank you, Leliana." Josephine returned the hug. She should have known that Leliana _would_ understand.

With a smile and a wink, Leliana left Josephine to her relative privacy to read her letter.

_Dear Josie,_

_We miss you. So much. It's kind of nice with just the two of us, but I don't sleep as well without you._

_**Nor do I. You'd think, after all those years living, traveling, and sleeping on my own, it wouldn't be a problem, but it is.** _

_Who knew Blackwall would be an emotional letter writer?_

_**I am not. This is all still very new to me. It's been less than a week, after all.** _

_If you insist, Blackwall. At the very least, this will entertain Josie._

_**That it will. How go your efforts to elevate the Du Paraquettes, my lady?** _

_She's just started on that, Blackwall. Give her a little more time. She's a good diplomat, but even Josie needs more time._

_**By the time this letter reaches her and she writes a reply, our lady ambassador should have made some progress, my lady Mal.** _

_We're sending this by bird, Blackwall. She'll get it sooner than that._

_**By bird? Isn't that misusing the Inquisition's resources?** _

_For the Inquisitor to keep the Ambassador up-to-date and aware of developments? Nope!_

_**I'm sure Sister Leliana and Commander Cullen share their reports with Lady Josie and that she shares her reports with them. We don't need to send this by bird.** _

_Just this once, we will. This is our first trip away from her since we talked. I want her to know that we miss her even now._

_**Of course we miss her.** _

_We'll be home as soon as we find our people in the Fallow Mire, Josie._

_Missing you, **my lady** Josie._   
_Mal and **Blackwall**_

Josephine smiled and laughed as she read their letter to her. She could _just_ picture them, too. Sitting together by the campfire, passing the parchment back and forth between them, whispering as they took turns writing. Smiling, she set aside her current letter and smoothed out a fresh, clean piece of parchment. Dipping her pen in her inkwell, Josephine began to write her response to their letter.

*

"Before you go, Your Worship," Lace told Malika before they could leave after she'd given her report on the area. "This letter arrived for you and Ser Blackwall yesterday."

Malika sighed and told her, "You _can_ call me Malika, you know."

"A certain protocol should be maintained out in the field, Inquisitor," Lace replied, though Blackwall was certain she relaxed, just a little.

Nodding, Malika waved a hand. "All right. I get it." She turned to the rest of them. "It's too late to do anything today. Let's make camp so we're rested for tomorrow."

"We all know you just want to read your letter, Boss," Iron Bull told her with a sly grin. "But, sure, let's camp here."

Solas nodded respectfully to both Malika and Blackwall before following Iron Bull over to speak with one of the Inquisition agents. Catching hold of Blackwall's sleeve, Malika led him to a relatively quiet spot. "Shall we see what our lovely lady Josie has to say?"

"Of course, my lady Mal," he replied, wrapping arm around her shoulders.

Snuggling against his side, Malika broke the seal on the envelope and opened it.

_My dear Mal and Blackwall,_

_You **do** realize that you've all but **told** Leliana about us by sending your letter with her birds instead of more conventional means, yes? You're not **that** stupid, Mal, so I suppose you **want** Leliana to know about us. I don't mind, but please **ask** next time. Before you start to worry, no, I'm not mad. Blackwall, do give Mal a hug for me if she still looks worried. Even if she doesn't, for that matter._

_I miss you both dreadfully. The bed is **much** too empty without either of you. I know it is necessary, but I hadn't expected to miss you both **quite** so much. I hope you find our people quickly. Not just for their sakes, but also so you come back to me that much sooner. Does that shock you? That I am selfish enough to say I want you both here with me in Skyhold? I may have worked to establish a reputation of being selfless and patient, but even **I** have limits. I pray to the Maker that all goes well in the Fallow Mire and you return quickly and safely._

_Regarding the Du Paraquettes, I found a noble who will sponsor them, but she desires a favor in return. As usually happens in these matters. I know that Leliana suggested a quicker way to end this threat on my life, but I've told you that I don't want anyone else to die because of me. Even if they **are** a guild of assassins. I keep telling Leliana: 'Niceness before knives.' If you wish to elevate the Du Paraquettes, Countess Dionne would like some news about her lover, Ellery. He was a mage who disappeared after the war broke out. Once we give her that news, she will gladly sponsor the Du Paraquettes._

_Hurry back, my darlings. I miss you more with each day that passes._

_Josephine_

"I'm torn about what to do regarding the Du Paraquettes," Malika admitted quietly. "On the one hand, I want to follow Josie's wishes and avoid killing people."

He squeezed her shoulders gently, understanding her problem all too well. "But that takes time and leaves Lady Josie vulnerable to an attempt by the House of Repose."

"Exactly." Sighing, Malika turned and rested her forehead against his chest. "On the other hand, I _could_ have Leliana send her people to destroy the original contract and, thus, end the threat more quickly."

Blackwall shook his head, stroking Malika's hair gently. "That would mean more deaths because of Lady Josie and that's not what she wants."

"Something to think about." Malika sighed heavily and reluctantly straightened up. "C'mon, let's help Bull and Solas finish setting up camp."

He gently held her still and Malika looked up at him curiously. "Was Lady Josie right? Part of your reason for using the birds was to let Leliana know about the three of us?"

Cheeks flushing, Malika nodded and looked down at her feet. "Yes. I realize now that I should asked _both_ of you first."

"Yes, you should have." Blackwall kissed the top of her head, touched that she wanted to tell people about them. "I'll forgive you this once, but this won't work if we don't _talk_ to each other."

She nodded, looking up to meet his eyes. "I'm not ashamed of our relationship, Blackwall. It's part of why I did it."

"Nor are we," he assured her, hoping Josephine would forgive him for speaking for her. "You have a _very_ powerful and _very_ dangerous enemy, though, who wouldn't hesitate to attack you through us."

The blood seemed to drain from her face and Malika wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. "I won't let you die for me again if I can help it."

"You may not be able to prevent it, my lady," he told her quietly, gently stroking her hair once more. When he'd joined the Inquisition, Blackwall had promised to lay down his life for her if he must and he would hold to that promise.

She shook her head, her voice muffled, but clear enough. "Nope!"

"Well, that's a worst-case scenario." Blackwall tried to clear his throat of the lump that had formed over Malika's distress at the thought of losing him. Again. "I don't intend to die anytime soon anyway."

"Good."

*

Writing love letters to Josephine with Blackwall was the only _good_ part about the Fallow Mire. It was cold and damp, making it particularly difficult for Blackwall and Iron Bull to fight. At least Malika and Solas could shoot and cast from a distance. By the time they defeated the Avvar keeping the Inquisition soldiers captive and freed their people, all four of them were heartily sick of the bog and gladly rode home to Skyhold. Sniffing her sleeves, Malika told Blackwall, "I don't think we'll _ever_ get the smell of that place out of our clothes."

"Lady Josie probably won't want to come near us until we take baths," Blackwall agreed after sniffing his gambeson.

Grinning, she nudged her pony, Lya, to walk alongside his horse, Tormund. "We could _share_ a bath."

"The thought _had_ crossed my mind," he confided with a sly smile.

She grinned even wider, pleased that she wasn't the _only_ one who'd been thinking along those lines. "I'm sure Leliana's people are keeping Josie and the others apprised of our progress."

"Of course they are," Iron Bull interjected from behind them. "Red's clever like that."

Blackwall's cheeks reddened under his beard and he cleared his throat. "I look forward to not smelling like a bog anymore."

"Same here." Malika wasn't at all embarrassed that Iron Bull might have heard them talking about bathing together.

Snorting, Iron Bull said, "Pretty safe to say that we're _all_ looking forward to that, Boss."

"Quite true," Solas concurred, stirring from his quiet contemplation to finally contribute.

When they finally reached Skyhold, Josephine, Cullen, and Leliana greeted them with relieved smiles and wrinkled noses. "There's fresh hot water waiting for you in your quarters, Inquisitor."

"Thank you, Josephine." Nodding, Malika headed that direction. Blackwall, who tended to use the servants' passages, had beat her to her rooms and begun disrobing.

Though she'd have _gladly_ watched Blackwall strip down (he was _more_ handsome than she'd suspected), Malika was too eager to get clean to delay her bath. She undressed as quickly as she could and padded naked into the bathing room off her quarters. A tub large enough for _Iron Bull_ to stretch out comfortably waited, full of gently steaming water. She climbed in and sank down into the warm water with a happy sigh. "You really aren't body shy, are you?"

"No, she isn't." While Malika had expected Blackwall's voice, her eyes snapped open at the sound of Josephine's voice as well.

The two humans stood beside the tub, looking amused. Josephine was fully dressed, but Blackwall had only a towel wrapped around his waist. This left his barrel chest with its dusting of dark hair and scattered scars bare and Malika licked her lips at the sight. Looking up to meet his eyes, she told him in a husky voice, "C'mon in Blackwall, the water's fine."

"I'm sure it is." Chuckling, he unwound the towel and draped it over a nearby chair.

The moment he stepped into the tub and sat down so the water reached his collarbone, Malika moved to his side and kissed him, hot and hungry. He responded in kind, wrapping his arms around her so he could squeeze her bottom. She squeaked in surprise, and then started giggling. He chuckled and that ended the kiss. "If I didn't know better, I'd think the two of you were the ones who'd been parted for weeks."

"We shared a tent with Bull and Solas," Malika explained, watching avidly as Josephine undressed, revealing lovely golden-brown skin, smooth and silky. "All we could do was cuddle."

Blackwall cleared his throat and Malika grinned when she realized just _how much_ Josephine was affecting him. "Especially since we all cuddled together for warmth."

"Poor things." Leaving her hair pinned up, Josephine stepped into the tub and slowly sank to her knees beside them.

Smiling brightly Malika tugged Josephine close for another hot, hungry kiss. When they parted, both were smiling. "There, a _much_ better way to say hello."

"Indeed, my lady." With that, Blackwall gently turned Josephine towards him for his own kiss. Malika pressed close, watching intently.

Josephine clutched at Blackwall's shoulders when they finally parted to catch their breath. "Oh, my. With kisses like that when you come home, the separation when you have to go out in the field just _might_ be worth it."

" _Nothing_ will make a separation from you worthwhile, Josie," Malika told her seriously.

Blackwall nodded his agreement, gathering both of them close, the water making them slide against each other easily. "I much prefer holding _both_ of my ladies close to writing love letters."

"Honestly? I feel the same, Blackwall." Josephine wrapped her arms around them as well.

Malika pressed her forehead against theirs, winding her arms around them as far as they would go. "Love letters suffice when we don't have a choice, but I will _always_ choose to be with you two if I can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was _fun_ to write, especially the last scene.


	6. Fighting Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The House of Repose attempts to fulfill their contract. Afterwards, Malika and Blackwall reluctantly go to Crestwood with Sera and Dorian. Things don't go smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the saying that 'the couple who fights together stays together', but sometimes it's nice to _not_ be a battle couple (or trio).

The moment the maid entered, Josephine _knew_ something was off. She didn't recognize the woman, but the Inquisition was still hiring people as it grew. The maid placed the tea service on the low table before the fireplace. "Is that everything, Lady Montilyet?"

"Yes, thank you." She finished drafting her current letter and stood up to walk over and begin pouring the tea for herself, Malika, and Blackwall. Her lovers planned to leave for Crestwood soon and Josephine intended to enjoy their company as much as she could before then.

As she moved back out of Josephine's path, the maid flicked her right arm. The firelight gleamed on the dagger that suddenly appeared in her hand and Josephine ducked back in time to avoid the first stab of the weapon. "A contract is a contract, Ambassador."

"I know," Josephine replied, snatching up her writing board to block a second stab. "I'm sorry about this."

With that, she screamed as loud as she could. She blocked a third attack as the door from the great hall slammed open. "Oh, no you don't!"

"Watch out, Blackwall!" Malika yelled from the other door as he charged across the room and grabbed the maid. "She has another dagger!"

Josephine slammed her board into the woman's wrist as she lifted her other hand, a second dagger gleaming in the firelight. "Try not to kill her, please!"

"She won't show us the same courtesy," Blackwall replied, grunting when the maid managed to free her other hand and took a swipe towards Josephine.

Malika darted in and punched the woman so she crumpled in Blackwall's arms. "There."

"Is-- did you kill her?" Josephine asked, her voice shaking now.

Blackwall pulled his glove off and felt for the vein in the assassin's neck. He looked up at them. "She's still alive."

"What should we do with her after we question her?" Leliana asked from the doorway to the war room. "It might be best to kill--"

"No, Leliana," Malika interjected, offering her hand to Josephine.

She gladly took her hand and let her pull Josephine to her feet. She hadn't even realized she'd fallen to her knees. "Niceness before knives."

"Are you all right, Lady Josie?" Blackwall asked, stepping over to join Josephine and Malika now that Leliana's agents had the assassin in hand.

She nodded, leaning into her lovers when they gathered her into a tight three-way hug. "A little shaken, but fine."

"I'm so glad we were here for you," Malika told her.

Leliana loudly cleared her throat and they reluctantly parted so they could look at her. "I assure you, Inquisitor, I _will_ find out how she got past both my people and Cullen's."

"Thank you, Leliana," Josephine told her with a wan but sincere smile.

Blackwall took Josephine's hand. "What else do you need to do to elevate the Du Paraquettes?"

"I've found a judge who will sign the paperwork, but I need to speak with Cullen," Josephine told them, resting her other hand on Malika's shoulder. The sooner she finished arranging these favors, the better. "Judge Auld would like some of our soldiers to accompany him on a hunt in the Frostbacks in exchange for his signature."

Malika nodded and covered Josephine's hand with hers. "I'm sure he will, if he knows it's to help keep you safe from another attempt like this."

"Let's have our tea first," Blackwall suggested, leading them over to the couch.

Josephine sat down with a sigh, amused to realize that her lovers had sat down on either side of her. _No one_ was going to threaten her now.

*

"That's the fort Mayor Dedrick told us about," Malika told them as they approached Caer Bronach along the road.

Blackwall glanced at her with raised eyebrows. "Should we knock?"

"After you, Broody," Sera told him, drawing an arrow from her quiver.

Dorian spun his staff once. "Ready when you are, Blackwall."

"Go ahead," Malika told him, her bow at the ready and an arrow on the string.

Nodding, he led the charge to the gates, slamming into it with his shield. A few good blows and a well-placed fireball from Dorian left it in ruins. As the others gathered behind him, the bandits began yelling, "We're under attack! Release the dogs!"

"Oh, for-- again?" Malika grumbled. "I _hate_ killing dogs."

Blackwall spotted one charging towards them and took several steps forward to smash it with his shield, following it up with his sword in the dog's throat. "Focus on the men, Mal. We'll get the dogs."

"Just be careful, Blackwall," Malika told him, a blue-fletched arrow flying past him to catch a bandit in the shoulder. " _Stone_."

Spotting another dog, Blackwall charged forward to intercept it. Another crashed into him, knocking him flat on his back. Dropping his sword for the moment, Blackwall slammed his gauntleted fist into the dog's temple. As it shook its head, he rolled out of the way. A red-fletched arrow and a fireball took care of the two dogs as Blackwall grabbed his sword and stood up. "Ew, burning fur."

"Would you rather they'd eaten Blackwall's face?" Dorian asked Sera archly.

Malika pressed against his side for a moment, clasping his hand. "We're not done yet, you two. There's more bandits further in."

"I don't hear barking. I think that was all of the dogs." Blackwall squeezed Malika's hand for a moment, relieved that they were all still standing.

She returned the squeeze, and then started for the stairs that led further into the keep. "Let's go."

"Make sure to focus on the baddies, Beardy," Sera teased as they followed Malika. "And not Glowy's backside."

Dorian fell in on Blackwall's other side. "He can't see it right now, anyway, what with the coat she's wearing."

"I can still hear you," Malika told them over her shoulder, sounding amused. "There's more bandits ahead. Blackwall?"

Nodding, he readied his sword and shield again and led the charge into the next area of the keep. Several arrows hit his shield and clattered to the ground. "The warrior!"

"I don't think so!" When Blackwall turned from dispatching an opponent, he saw that a bandit archer lay dying, a blue-fletched arrow in his throat. Judging by his location, he must have been moving to shoot Blackwall from behind.

He took that in all in a moment and turned to resume fighting. Once all their enemies were down, Blackwall took a moment to test his body. The muscles were sore and he could feel some bruises forming. "What's the matter, getting _old_ , Blackwall?"

" _You_ try fighting with a sword and shield sometime, Dorian," Malika retorted, rummaging in her pockets. "Here, Blackwall."

He accepted the healing potion with a grateful smile and downed it, hardly noticing the bitter aftertaste. "Thanks, my lady."

"I'll leave the heavy lifting to the people who've _trained_ for it," Dorian declared, leaning on his staff in an almost-careless pose.

Sera cackled suddenly. "Are you saying that Glowy's _fat_ , Dorian?"

"Dwarves _do_ tend to weigh more than you'd think, Sera," Malika pointed out while Blackwall's cheeks grew warm under his beard. He should have known their friends would figure out the truth eventually.

Dorian glanced between Blackwall and Malika, frowning. "I thought-- Wait--" he stepped close to Malika and whispered something to her. She laughed and nodded. He gave an amused chuckle in reply. "Well, as long as you're happy."

Malika nodded again and looked up at Blackwall with a fond smile. "I am. Very happy."

"As am I," Blackwall added when Dorian looked at him inquiringly, smiling fondly at Malika.

Sera stared for a moment. "That's just _weird_. Broody Beard isn't all broody anymore!"

"Didn't you say you _wanted_ to see me smile?" Blackwall asked Sera, his smile turning mischievous now.

After another moment Sera cackled again. "All right, yeah."

"There's still bandits to fight," Malika reminded them. "Come on."

Blackwall moved to walked alongside Malika now. "What did Dorian ask you?"

"He just wanted to confirm if all _three_ of us were together," Malika explained quietly.

He glanced back at the mage, and then addressed Malika, "How would he even _know_?"

"Redcliffe," she told him, a shadow crossing her face. "He was there, too, remember?"

Blackwall nodded, annoyed that he'd forgotten that fact. Malika had yet to tell them any further details about Redcliffe and what she and Dorian had seen there. "It didn't happen, Mal, and it _won't_ happen."

"Thanks, Blackwall." They paused at the door that separated them from the next group of bandits. "Since our secret's out--" she drew his head down for a kiss, swift and soft.

Blackwall touched his forehead to hers. "We've got this."

"Now you're going _sappy_ on us?" Sera asked, sounding disgusted.

A glance at her confirmed that she had an approving smile on her face despite her tone of voice. Dorian gave an exaggerated sigh. "Let's kill the bandits first, and _then_ you two can be sappy all you want."

"Sounds good to me," Malika agreed. "Blackwall?"

Chuckling, he set himself and kicked the door open. They had a keep to clear of bandits.

*

"Oh, no you don't!" Blackwall's shout behind her caught Malika's attention and she turned in time to see him lunging between her and the bandit leader. A scream lodged in her throat when the leader's massive mace hit Blackwall's shield and shattered it.

He stood firm between her and bandit leader, gripping his sword in both hands now. In almost slow motion, she watched the mace break the sword and smash into Blackwall's chest with enough force to send him crashing to the ground. Malika could only scream, "Blackwall!"

"No!" Faintly, Malika heard Sera's voice and was dimly aware that both she and Dorian were attacking the leader now. She could only stare at Blackwall at her feet, still and pale. Just like Redcliffe. "Glowy! Move!"

Closer, she could hear Dorian cursing. Movement caught her attention and she finally noticed the bandit leader. Despite fireballs from one direction and red-fletched arrows from the other, he lifted his mace up, clearly intending to finish Blackwall off. "No!" She threw herself across his chest so the mace hit her square in the back instead. A flash of bright, white-hot pain overwhelmed her and sent her spiraling into pain-free blackness. She wasn't sure how much later she came to, groaning with pain. "Ow, that _hurts_."

"You shouldn't even be _moving_ after a blow like that," Dorian told her as Sera helped her ease into a sitting position, every back muscle _screaming_ in protest.

Catching her breath once she was sitting, Malika told him, "Dwarves are tough. My back'll be a mess of bruises, but no broken bones."

"This'll help, Glowy." Sera handed her a healing potion while Dorian tipped another into Blackwall's mouth, stroking his throat to ensure he swallowed it.

She downed the potion and shuddered at the bitter aftertaste. "Thanks, Sera."

"Quiet, please," Dorian requested before he downed a lyrium potion with a grimace and began to heal Blackwall, closing his eyes to better focus.

As he worked, Malika held Sera's hand tightly, worried about Blackwall. Eventually, the tense silence must have been too much for Sera, because she asked, "Why'd you freeze like that, Glowy? When Beardy first went down?"

"I--" Malika started, and then stopped, biting her lip. "It reminded me of that future I saw in Redcliffe, with Dorian. I told you that you, Blackwall, Leliana, and Zevran fought to give Dorian the time he needed to cast the spell." Sera nodded, her serious expression very much like what Malika had seen in the future. "You and Blackwall were outside the room, and then they burst in and dragged-- they had-- he was so still-- so pale-- covered in blood."

When she faltered, her throat closing up at the memory, Sera tugged her hand free from Malika's so she could hug her tight. "It didn't happen, Glowy. We're here. We're alive."

Malika clung to Sera, her fingers digging into the chainmail that covered Sera's shoulders. When she finally found her voice, it was thick with unshed tears. "I know all that, but for one brief moment, everyone was dead. For a brief moment, I grieved for you."

"He'll live," Dorian informed them after a short silence where Sera held Malika and stroked her hair. "I don't recommend letting him up until tomorrow, to give his bones and muscles more time to heal."

Malika pulled back from Sera, scrubbing at her face. "Thank you, Dorian. I'm too sore to want to do anything more today."

They moved Blackwall into the keep and Malika sent Sera to Lace Harding with a message for Skyhold. She sat with her back against the wall at the head of the bed, Blackwall's head pillowed in her lap. "If he's going to keep doing this, I'll have to review human anatomy."

"I'll have words with him about doing this," she promised Dorian, combing her fingers through Blackwall's dark hair. "We'd rather have him _with_ us instead of mourning for him."

Dorian nodded, dragging a chair to the side of the bed. "I'm curious: why him? Why Josephine?"

"Well, Josie didn't seem to catch on to my flirting," Malika admitted quietly. She'd been thinking about exactly _that_ herself. "That intrigued me and I kept flirting. As for _him_..." she stared down at his still face, lightly tracing her fingers over his features now. "You know I'm former Carta. That didn't seem to _matter_ to him. He still treated me like a lady, as noble as Josie. How could I _not_ fall for him?"

Dorian nodded thoughtfully. "What kept your attention? I can't imagine that's _all_."

"It isn't," she confirmed, smiling fondly. "Josie, like Blackwall, has never looked down on me for being former Carta. She's very curious about Dwarven culture and has even told _me_ some things _I_ didn't know about my people simply because I'm a surfacer like Varric."

She smiled when Blackwall stirred and clasped her free hand. His voice rusty, Blackwall asked, "And me, my lady?"

"Dwarves prize craftsmanship as well as the ability to fight and protect," she explained, tangling their fingers together. "You've demonstrated both as well as a sly sense of humor that makes me laugh until my sides are sore."

Dorian commented wryly, "And here I thought it was his rugged good looks."

"That goes without saying," Blackwall countered, smiling up at Malika.

She smiled back, kissing the tips of her fingers and pressing them to his lips. As he kissed her fingers in turn, she added, "Of course! An excellent beard is highly regarded amongst dwarves, male or female."

"So Varric would be considered ugly?" Dorian looked curious.

Blackwall, mischief in his eyes, refuted, "No, the chest hair makes up for it."

"Why else would he go around with his shirt open all the time?" Malika giggled, only to stop with a wince. "Stone!"

Dorian leaned forward, concerned, "Mal?"

"My lady?" Blackwall stared up at her.

She gave both of them a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Laughing too much hurts my back right now, that's all."

"I think we have one more healing potion." Dorian got up and dug through their supplies.

Blackwall watched Malika accept it and drink it down. "What happened to your back?"

"She saved your life, Beardy," Sera volunteered from the doorway.

Lace followed Sera into the room, stopping just inside the door. "If it's all right, Your Worship, I'd like to station a few scouts here to facilitate communication until we've properly garrisoned the keep."

"Yes, of course." Malika nodded, glad that _someone_ had thought of it. "Thank you, Scout Harding."

Saluting, Lace withdrew. Sighing, Malika shifted into a comfortable position and let her exhaustion drag her into restful sleep. _Telling Josie about this is going to be **fun**._

*

"The Inquisitor managed to capture Caer Bronach Keep from a group of bandits," Leliana informed Josephine and Cullen once she received the raven from Crestwood the following day. "She thinks there's strategic value for the Inquisition in keeping it."

Cullen unfurled a map of Crestwood, looking thoughtful. "Caer Bronach? It was built in 8:26 Blessed by King Brandel. He used it as a garrison for Fereldan soldiers fighting the Orlesians."

The three of them studied the map. Josephine glanced at the larger ones of Fereldan and Orlais. "It is right on the trade route between Denerim and Val Royeaux."

"That would explain the bandits using it," Leliana mused, tapping the symbol for the keep with one finger.

Cullen tapped the map as well, but on the symbol for the village. "We must do our part to protect innocents. A garrison of our soldiers would go a long way towards that."

Josephine consulted her notes. "I'm sure I can arrange the necessary funds and equipment to send with our soldiers."

"That's settled. The sooner we send them, the better." Cullen consulted his own notes. "My men should be ready to leave by early afternoon."

Leliana nodded, clasping her hands behind her back. "I'll send my agents as soon as we're done here so they can consult with the Inquisitor as to what's most needed in the area."

"I need to have a word with Quartermaster Morris and I'll let you know when the supplies will be ready, Commander," Josephine told him.

"Good. I'll go speak with my troops." Cullen started for the door, and then turned back, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Is there anything else?"

Leliana shook her head. "No, I had nothing else."

"Nor I," Josephine told him.

Nodding, he strode from the room. Leliana caught Josephine's sleeve. "Josie."

Curious, she turned to her friend. "What is it?"

Without a word, Leliana handed Josephine the letter. The first part was written in Malika's blocky, cramped hand. Josephine had tried in vain to get her to use a more graceful and elegant style of writing. Skimming through it confirmed what Leliana had told them. After the dwarf's signature, Scout Lace Harding had added _'I saw the Inquisitor and Ser Blackwall myself. They were both awake and coherent. A full recovery seems likely, though both are moving slowly and carefully for now.'_

Josephine looked back at Leliana. "Why didn't you mention this before?"

"Considering Malika didn't mention hers or Blackwall's injuries in her note, I felt it best to tell only you." Leliana's voice was mild and calm.

Josephine wasn't sure how her friend could be so calm, knowing the Inquisitor and Blackwall were injured enough to need a professional healer. "He'd have to be seriously injured if Malika was hurt as well. He sees it as his duty to keep her safe."

"Indeed." Leliana nodded, and then tilted her head curiously. "How go your efforts to elevate the Du Paraquettes?"

Josephine smiled, touched that Leliana had asked, "We have secured Judge Auld's agreement. Now it is a matter of finding a minister to ratify their elevation to nobility."

"I confess to being disappointed that the Inquisitor chose to follow your plan to stop the threat on your life, but I'm glad it's working out." Leliana bowed slightly to Josephine, a playful twinkle in her eyes.

"Thank you, Leliana." They left the war room together. "I'll see you later."

With that, they parted ways, Leliana up to the rookery to send a reply and Josephine to the quartermaster to arrange all the supplies the soldiers would need at the keep. _Maker, watch over them both. Please don't take them so soon after we found each other..._

*

"Really, my lady Mal, there's no need for you to--" Blackwall stopped his protest with a groan of pain when Malika tugged at his left arm, which had been shattered along with his shield. While Dorian had healed the broken bones, the muscles were still tender. "Maker's balls, my lady. Was that necessary?"

She folded her arms across her chest, her expression stern. "Even if we'd found a shield to replace the one that bandit shattered, you wouldn't be able to use it for a few more days at _least_."

"I can still fight without a shield," he protested, which was true. He just felt off balance without a shield on his arm. Not to mention that his private stash of pain relief potions was gone and he had no way of getting more until they returned to Skyhold.

Shaking her head, Malika poked his side, finding one of the bruises that hadn't faded. Blackwall grunted and batted her hand away. "You're still moving stiffly and I doubt sleeping on the ground has helped you any."

"My lady." He tried again. Blackwall hated being weak. He hated that he'd failed to protect the Inquisitor, his lover, and that she, in fact, had protected _him_!

Sera bounded over to them with slightly less than her usual energy. She'd been injured by bandits on the way to meet Maria Hawke and her Warden friend (Loghain Mac Tir of all people!) and still hadn't fully recovered from it. "Give up, Beardy. She's not gonna budge on this."

"We made contact with Loghain, which was the point of coming to Crestwood in the first place," Malika reminded him, shifting her stance when Sera propped a bony elbow on the dwarf's shoulder. "Helping the villagers was just the right thing to do."

Her face clouded and Blackwall knew she was thinking of the mayor and the written confession they'd found in his house after sealing the rift in the lake. Gruffly, he asked, "What're you going to do about Mayor Dedrick?"

"I'm sure Leliana can find him." Malika shook her head. "I figured he was hiding something, but not _that_."

Sera made a rude noise. "Big hat should've thought of something else. Not drowned his own people, sick or not."

"His people trusted him and he betrayed that trust," Blackwall added. The irony of _him_ making _that_ statement wasn't lost on him. _If my men heard me say that now, after what I did to **them** , they'd spit on me._

Malika nodded, poking her fingers into Sera's armpit to make her squeal and flinch away. "We need to _find_ him first. Get as much rest as you can. We leave first thing in the morning."

"Sure thing, Glowy." Making a rude noise at Malika, Sera headed off to their tents. Dorian had already retired, exhausted from using his magic so much.

When Blackwall would have followed the elf, Malika caught his right hand. He looked down at her curiously. "My lady?"

"Here, I know you're out of pain potions." She held out a vial of familiar liquid.

He just _knew_ his cheeks were red under his beard. "I-- my lady--"

"Just take it. You need it more than I do." She placed the vial in his hand and closed his fingers around it.

After staring down at the vial for several moments, he shrugged and drank the potion. He'd forgotten how observant Malika was. She smiled once he finished and took his hand to walk with him back to their tents. Sleep suddenly sounded _wonderful_.

*

"Finally," Josephine murmured a few days after their return from Crestwood. Speaking at a more typical volume, she said, "Inquisitor?"

Malika looked up from her own pile of correspondence, glad for the distraction from it. They were in Josephine's office at the moment. Josephine sat at her desk while Malika sat on the couch with a lap desk Blackwall had made for her after she'd complained that none of the desks or tables had been designed for a dwarf. She sat very stiff and still, her back still sore from the bandits and sleeping on hard ground. Blackwall lay stretched out on the couch, his head pillowed against Malika's leg, fast asleep. "Yes, Lady Josephine?"

"I have the time and place of Marquis Wiscotte's party," Josephine informed her with suppressed excitement. "Minister Bellise will be there."

After a moment of confusion, Malika remembered who the Minister was and why she needed to speak to her. "Oh, right! She's the last person we need to talk to for the Du Paraquettes to be nobles again."

"Yes, exactly." Josephine nodded, looking relieved that she hadn't needed to remind Malika. "She holds the entire success of our endeavor in her hands."

Next to Malika, Blackwall stirred and mumbled, "If she doesn't agree, what else can you do?"

"Let's not think that way," Malika replied, stroking Blackwall's hair with a fond smile, glad to have both of her lovers nearby. "When do we need to leave in order to make it to this party?"

Josephine had been making notes while they spoke and said, "We should leave tomorrow morning if we don't want to push our horses too much."

"We'll be ready when you are, my lady," Blackwall told her, carefully pulling himself into a sitting position, cradling his left arm against his chest.

Malika watched him with worry, unable to forget the moment when the bandit had knocked him to the ground. "Are you sure it's a good idea for you to go with us, Blackwall?"

"Would _you_ want to stay behind, Mal?" Josephine asked, crossing to the couch to help him loop a sling over his head so he could rest his arm in it.

She shook her head, setting her lap desk aside so she could scoot over to hug Blackwall. "We'd be glad for your company, of course, Blackwall."

"You're just going to a party, my lady," he reminded her, returning the hug with his good arm. "I won't need to fight."

Josephine sat down on his other side. "Please see the healers before we leave. Maybe there's something they can do."

"They've done everything they can already, Josie," Malika reminded her, leaning forward to peer at her around Blackwall. They'd been a little annoyed that Blackwall and Malika hadn't returned from Crestwood immediately after being injured.

He leaned over to kiss Josephine's cheek. "Miss Unam has done all she can, my lady. We just need to be patient."

"Yes, of course." Josephine nodded, kissing Blackwall's cheek in return.

Malika shifted to kneel on the couch so she could kiss Blackwall's other cheek. "It'll be nice to get away from Skyhold for some reason besides fighting things."

"Agreed, my lady," Blackwall replied, turning to kiss her cheek, too.

They glanced at Josephine, who sat very quietly beside them, her hands folded in her lap and her hazel eyes distant and unfocused. Concerned, Malika slid down from the couch and bent to peer at her face. "Josie?"

"My lady?" Blackwall slipped his left arm out of the sling and covered her hands with it.

She blinked and looked down at their clasped hands. Concerned, she looked at him. "Blackwall, your arm--"

"You weren't responding, Josie," Malika explained straightening up with a wince.

Carefully squeezing Josephine's hand, Blackwall slid his arm back into the sling. "What were you thinking about, my lady?"

"I was just remembering how worried I was when I heard you'd both been hurt," she explained in a low voice, staring down at her hands.

Malika stretched up to hug her, only for her back to protest the movement so soon after she'd bent down. "Ooh, ow. Can't do that yet."

"Stop risking your recoveries for me," Josephine protested, though a hint of a smile tugged at her lips even as she did so.

Blackwall chuckled as Malika climbed up into Josephine's lap. "Better, my lady Mal?"

"Better." She curled up against Josephine, relaxing into her familiar warmth and scent.

Smiling fondly, Josephine wrapped her arms around Malika and held her close. "Better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have Thoughts about the Warden and Blackwall, but the parameters I set myself for this fic meant I couldn't include them. Maybe in another one.


	7. Weaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josephine is no longer in danger and the Inquisition continues to spread across Thedas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one of these scenes is from the original fic and I think it's even from a different PoV.

"Thank you for your help with this matter, Mal," Josephine told Malika as the three of them stood looking out over the view of the Waking Sea from Val Royeaux. "And, of course, you as well, Blackwall."

"I didn't do anything," Blackwall pointed out, shifting position so he could look at Josephine and keep an eye out for anyone approaching them from behind.

Malika peered at him around Josephine. "You may not have arranged the favors or used the Inquisition's power to ensure they came to pass, but that doesn't mean you did nothing."

"Precisely." Josephine turned and leaned back against the railing, resting one hand on his arm, wishing they'd returned to their rooms already. "You and Mal, indeed, everyone, has been nothing but supportive of my efforts to end the threat on my life."

He briefly covered Josephine's hand with his. "It would've been quicker if you'd let Leliana have her way."

"No, there's been enough blood spilled on my behalf as it is," Josephine shook her head. Sighing, she decided they deserved to know the truth of why she preferred to fight with words rather than blades. "I never told either of you that I used to be a bard."

Malika and Blackwall exchanged glances, their surprise evident. "Somehow, I can't quite picture it." Blackwall stroked his beard as he eyed Josephine thoughtfully. "You seem too... steady to be an entertainer and a spy."

She gave a soft, rueful laugh. "I was much younger then, a student at the University of Orlais when I learned about bards. A group of us thought it was all rather romantic and decided to take up the life ourselves."

"That was risky, my lady Josie," Blackwall remarked with a shake of his head. "You could have been killed."

She shuddered and wrapped her arms across her waist, remembering the night she'd given up the life of a bard. "I almost was, Blackwall."

Malika rested a hand on Josephine's arm, concern on her face. "What happened, Josephine?"

"During one particular intrigue, I encountered a bard sent to kill my patron. We fought. Or perhaps 'scrapped' is the better word. Both of us terrified." She looked down at her feet, smiling faintly when Blackwall shifted to press his shoulder against hers in silent support. "We were at the top of a steep flight of stairs. The other bard drew a knife, and I pushed him away from me." She swallowed the bile that always rose to her throat when she thought about that moment, how the other bard had looked like a doll tossed carelessly aside. "You can imagine the result."

Malika squeezed her arm comfortingly, her voice soft and understanding. "You were only defending yourself."

"But it was such a waste, Mal!" The words burst out of her before she could stop them. Consciously moderating her voice to avoid drawing attention, she added, "When I took off his mask, I _knew_ him. We'd attended parties together. If I'd stopped to reason, if I'd used my voice instead of scuffling like a common thug." She sighed deeply, freeing one arm to wipe at her eyes, dashing away tears. "I'll always wonder who that young man would have grown into."

Blackwall squeezed her shoulder gently, his voice gruff as he reminded her, "He seemed willing enough to murder you for the Game."

She managed a small smile for him and Malika. "Perhaps. I feel I'm the last to judge whether or not he would have actually used the blade." She straightened up, dropping her hands. "Thank you once again."

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," Malika told her, bowing with one hand pressed over her heart. "You're one of my people, Josie."

Blackwall chuckled, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Once you're one of hers, there's no escaping her clutches.

"Not that I would _want_ to escape." Josephine smiled at each of them in turn.

Smiling back, the twinkle in Malika's blue eyes became more heated. "Perhaps we should return to our inn?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea, my lady," Blackwall replied, his eyes becoming heated as well.

Hiding a shiver of anticipation at the thought of what her lovers might have planned, Josephine nodded, "Yes, I find myself quite fatigued."

As they walked towards their inn, a thought suddenly occurred to Josephine: _How did Blackwall know what I meant by a bard? He's not from Orlais._

*

"Why are we here, my lady?" Blackwall asked Malika as they wandered Val Royeaux's market a few hours later. "Is there something we need to buy here that hasn't found its way to Skyhold?"

Malika smiled up at him and explained quietly, "I want to get something for Josephine."

"And it's not available at Skyhold?" He wondered, thinking of their lover sprawled across the bed, blissfully asleep after they'd made love to her until she was exhausted.

She shook her head. "No, it's something very specific and rare. According to what Leliana found, Marquis Pellantaise should be around here somewhere."

"Over there, my lady," Blackwall told her, indicating a nobleman trying to catch their attention.

Malika smiled brightly up at him, taking his breath away all over again. "Thank you, Blackwall."

"Your Worship, it's so good to see you at last," the Marquis gushed once they reached him. "I have several items that might be of interest to you."

She nodded, clasping her hands behind her back. "Let's see them, Marquis."

"Voila!" The Marquis stepped aside to reveal a display case with five small replicas of old-style trading ships. Unfortunately, not all of them were in the best of condition. The Marquis must have noticed something on their faces because he explained, "Unfortunately, the previous owner of this collection did not care for them as they should have. I have had a difficult time finding someone with the skill and patience to restore them."

Blackwall hummed thoughtfully as he moved closer to study the replicas more carefully, not picking them up, but still able to identify problems with each one. _The disrepair is different for each one. If we buy a few, the good pieces could be put together to make one high-quality replica._

"Blackwall?" Malika touched his arm, drawing his attention back to her. He looked down at her and nodded, displaying three fingers where the Marquis couldn't see them. She nodded back and turned to the Marquis. "How much do you want for three of them?"

Malika haggled with the Marquis for the price, clearly familiar with the need to pay less than the asking price. She also promised to come to him if she wanted anything else. As they moved away, Blackwall asked, "Why these trading ships in particular, my lady?"

Pausing by the fountain, she showed him the one with the best version of the family crest. "These are model versions of the Montilyets' trading ships before they were exiled from Orlais."

"Indeed?" He examined them more closely now, fully understanding why she'd been determined to buy them.

Malika nodded, and then asked, "Is there anything you'll need to restore these?"

"Me?" he asked, surprised by her question, and then smiled as it occurred to him what Malika wanted to do. "You want us to give Lady Josie the best version of this."

She nodded again, smiling brightly. "Yes. She told me once that she wished to see an example of the Montilyets' family crest. I'd asked Leliana to help me find these, and now you'll help create the best version to give her."

"It'd be best if I bought the materials myself," Blackwall explained after examining all three replicas carefully.

She slipped her arm through his. "Lead the way. I'll pay for whatever you need."

*

Malika smiled with anticipation when she heard the door to her quarters open and close, followed shortly by the sound of two familiar, beloved voices: "You're being very mysterious about this, Blackwall."

"I told you, lady Josie, it's a surprise for you from us," Blackwall responded patiently, making Malika smile as she waited for them to climb the stairs.

They finally appeared at the head of the stairs and Malika gave a little wave. "Hello, Josie, Blackwall. C'mon over."

"Why... what's this?" Josephine asked even as she and Blackwall walked over to greet Malika with soft, swift kisses.

Blackwall let Josephine sit down beside Malika, who'd picked up the box containing their surprise for her. As he sat down on Josephine's other side, he told her, "Lady Mal had the idea for this and took advantage of our trip to Val Royeaux to bring it about."

"Leliana and Blackwall helped make this possible," Malika added, handing the box to Josephine with a hopeful smile.

Looking intrigued, Josephine untied the ribbon around the box and carefully lifted the lid off. She gasped when she saw the replica ship inside. "Is this..."

"You said you wanted to see your original family crest," Malika explained with a nod, pleased by Josephine's reaction. "Leliana found someone who collected these."

His voice gruff, Blackwall continued, "We bought a few of those and I dismantled them in order to create this one from all the best parts."

"I'm astonished. I'd given up hope that any example of the early family crest still existed!" Picking it up, Josephine admired the workmanship that must have gone into both the original and the consolidated one. She looked at each of them in turn with a delighted smile, trailing her fingers over the wood. "It even has our first motto, back from when we had a trading fleet to speak of: 'From sea to shore, we tame the waves.'"

Malika gently covered Josephine's hand with hers, smiling tenderly. "Anything to make you smile, Josie."

"I'm very glad to have made you so happy." Blackwall slipped his arm around Josephine's waist and kissed her cheek.

"You've certainly succeeded, my darlings," Josephine told them, her face luminous with her happiness. "Thank you."

Shaking her head slightly, Malika stretched up to draw Josephine into a proper kiss. "There, that's a better thank you."

"You're very welcome, my lady Josie." Blackwall waited until Malika finished kissing Josephine to draw her into another kiss.

Looking back and forth between them, Josephine asked, "Are we going to have a repeat of Val Royeaux here?"

"Would you _like_ a repeat?' Malika countered, her heartbeat speeding up at the thought.

Chuckling, Blackwall asked, "Or would you prefer something else?"

"I'd say the focus should be on Mal this time," Josephine suggested, turning to her with a surprisingly hungry smile.

Malika raised her eyebrows, licking her lips at the thought of Blackwall and Josephine teaming up. "I don't deny I rather like that idea."

"As do I." Blackwall stood up, and then bent to kiss Malika, deep and hungry.

She responded eagerly, looking forward to the evening to come.

*

"This isn't working," Josephine remarked even as she and Malika attempted to dance around their bedroom.

Slowing to a stop, Malika looked up at her with pleading blue eyes that she found difficult to resist. "One more try, Josie. Please?"

"What are you ladies up to?" Blackwall asked before Josephine could respond, leaning on the railing by the stairs.

They'd pushed the furniture towards the walls to make a large, clear space in the middle of the room so they could practice dancing and turned to him. Startled, Josephine asked, "Oh, Blackwall. How long have you been there?"

"To answer your question: we're practicing dancing," Malika explained, reaching up for Josephine's hand. "It's not going well because Josephine isn't used to leading."

Nodding, Blackwall walked over and greeted each of them with sweet, soft kisses. Josephine couldn't resist cupping his cheek as he kissed her and Malika pressed their foreheads together for a moment. "To answer _your_ question, Lady Josie, I was only there for a moment or two." Looking between them, he asked, "You're practicing for the ball, yes?"

"Yes, we are," Josephine confirmed with a nod, not sure why she felt even slightly embarrassed by the admission. "Mal wants to know all the dances, both leading and following."

Still holding Josephine's hand, Malika brought it up to kiss the back, sending a shiver down Josephine's spine. "We've just run into a little snag because Josie's never really led."

"I can help with that." Blackwall bowed and offered his hand to Malika, "May I have this dance, my lady Mal?"

Both women stared at his extended hand. Josephine _had_ considered asking Blackwall, but she wasn't sure if he'd know the dances, "You know Orlesian dances?"

"From your life before the Wardens?" Malika placed her hand in his, blue eyes twinkling with good humor.

Nodding, he guided her into the proper starting position. "Yes, another life entirely."

"Will you tell us about it?" Josephine asked, moving to perch on the bed as Blackwall began to guide Malika through the dance steps. She wondered if that life was also how he'd known what she'd meant when she'd said she'd been a bard.

As they moved, Malika's stiff, awkward movements grew smoother and more fluid. Looking up at him curiously, she asked,. "Did you have a younger sister perhaps?"

"Yes, though I haven't heard from her in years." His movements remained smooth and easy. Clearly, he hadn't forgotten the dances. "We lost touch after I joined the Wardens."

Propping an arm on the headboard, Josephine offered, "We could try to track your sister down for you. Or at least find out what happened to her."

"I know _I'd_ like to know if anything had happened to Shayla," Malika added, referring to the younger sister she'd told them about.

Blackwall looked touched, but said, "There are more important matters that require the Inquisition's resources than finding my sister."

"It wouldn't be a _waste_ , Blackwall," Josephine countered earnestly. If she'd lost track of any of her siblings, she'd certainly have jumped at a chance to find them again.

Malika, her dancing almost as smooth as Blackwall's now, watched him thoughtfully for a few moments. "Perhaps we should set the question of looking for your sister aside for now."

"Yes, please." He seemed relieved that Malika was willing to drop the idea for the moment.

Josephine, on the other hand, wasn't ready to let it go yet. "She's your _sister_."

"I'm touched beyond belief that you want to find my sister, my lady Josie," Blackwall had guided the dance over towards the bed and now stopped so he could sit beside Josephine and gather her into a hug. "I'm just not _ready_ to find her right now."

As Josephine curled into Blackwall and hugged him back, Malika climbed onto the bed on Josephine's other side. "It's _his_ choice, Josie."

"Very well." Josephine sighed heavily, reluctantly letting the topic go for the moment. "If that's your wish--"

Blackwall kissed her forehead. "It is."

"You know, of course, that you need only ask and we'll find your sister." Malika rested her hand on Josephine's back.

Josephine nodded, sitting back to look up at him, wanting him to know where she stood on the idea. "Yes, of course."

"You two will be the first to know should I change my mind," he assured them.

Smiling, Josephine stretched up to kiss him softly. _That will have to be enough for now.  
_

*

"My lady, are you alright?" Blackwall asked Malika when she stumbled as they trudged away from the ritual tower where they'd confronted Magister Erimond of the Venatori.

She stared straight ahead, her gaze distant and unseeing, clutching Blackwall's sleeve with one hand. "Their eyes... Stone, their _eyes_."

"Mal, focus." Dorian moved in front of her, snapping his fingers in front of her face. She blinked and shook her head. "There you are. You went away from us for a short while."

For a moment, Malika just stared at him. Then she flung her arms around him in a tight hug. "Their eyes-- just like-- like--"

"Shh, Mal." Dorian stroked her hair, his head bent towards her with a sympathetic expression. "It _won't_ happen. We won't let it."

Blackwall glanced at Varric, who only shrugged. He had no more idea than Blackwall what they were talking about. "They-- just before we returned-- I don't know if you saw--"

"I was focused more on casting a spell I barely knew how to cast," Dorian's voice was as dry as the desert around them.

Malika nodded, swallowing hard. Her voice barely more than a whisper, she told them, "They killed Leliana and Zevran just as Dorian finished the spell to send us back to our present."

"They who, Blue?" Varric asked, looking curious.

Her voice still a whisper, she told them, "King Alistair and the Hero of Fereldan." They stared at her, and then each other in surprised shock. "I know-- they're all good friends. I think-- After what we just saw, that Corypheus managed to gain control of them just like Erimond controlled those mages."

"And they killed Leliana and Zevran?" Varric looked skeptical.

Malika nodded. "They were weak from being tortured and--" she glanced up at Dorian. "I think they _wanted_ to die. Even if that timeline ended then and there, it hadn't ended soon enough for either of them."

"What do you mean, my lady?" Blackwall asked gruffly, thinking back to the reports she and Dorian had written of their trip.

Another hard swallow and she began to list towards Blackwall, even though they weren't walking anywhere. She caught hold of his sleeve again even as he moved to steady her. "Whoa. The world is… wow, not steady."

"I think it's _you_ who's not steady, Blue," Varric pointed out, exchanging worried glances with Blackwall and Dorian.

The mage pressed his hand to Malika's forehead, his own wrinkling with concern. "She's burning up, but her skin is dry. That's not good."

"What do we need to do?" Blackwall asked, smoothing back the strand of hair that refused to stay back from her face.

A gesture of Dorian's hand and she was almost completely encased in ice. Malika gave a soft sigh of relief, slumping. "We must cool her down. This will work as a stopgap measure, but we need to find shade as soon as we can."

"You know, Iron Lady did that to a marquise when she first met Blue," Varric observed as they continued the trek to the closest Inquisition camp "Course, that's because he made the mistake of offending her."

Blackwall glanced at the dwarf as he slogged through the sand beside him. "Which 'her' are you referring to, Varric? Malika or Vivienne?"

"Yes," Varric replied with a smirk. Behind them, Dorian laughed.

Blackwall glanced back in time to catch the worried expression on Dorian's face as he renewed his ice spell. _Are we pushing her too much? She's only one person and she's doing so much for us and Thedas. Has she done anything for herself lately?_

*

A week after returning from the Western Approach, Malika had finally recovered enough from her bout of heatstroke to wander the keep and check in with everyone. There was little to do besides plan their trip to the ball at Halamshiral. Without news from Hawke and Loghain, they couldn't even begin to plan for an eventual attack on Adamant. As they ended one such meeting in favor of dinner, Leliana rested a hand on Malika's shoulder. "May I have a word, Inquisitor?"

"What is it, Leliana?" she asked, a little surprised. Whatever she wished to discuss must not be Inquisition business, otherwise she'd have brought it up during the meeting.

Leliana waited until Josephine and Cullen had left and the door closed behind them. "I know you, Josie and Blackwall have been involved for some time."

"I'm surprised it's taken you this long to speak with me about it," Malika replied with a cheeky smile, hiding a sudden attack of nerves. Josephine had said Leliana was like a sister to her and it was _never_ a good idea to get on a spymaster's bad side.

Leliana folded her arms across her chest, her expression stern. "I waited because I respect Josie, but I also want you to know that if you or Blackwall hurt her, you will have to answer to me."

"I quite understand and hurting Josie is the last thing I want," Malika told her, quite sincere.

Leliana nodded, her expression stern. "I'm the last person to comment on the three of you becoming involved, though it didn't come about in _quite_ the same way as you three."

"I was certainly surprised to find out about Zevran," Malika admitted, smiling faintly at one of the few good memories from that trip to the future.

Tilting her head curiously, Leliana said, "You indicated that you freed Zevran at the same time as myself in your report about the future Redcliffe, but not how he ended up in the torture chambers in the first place."

"You know him," Malika reminded her, folding her arms across her chest. "What do you think?"

Sighing softly, Leliana murmured, "He probably tried to rescue me."

"That was my assumption, too," Malika confirmed with a nod.

Leliana smiled faintly. "All three of you seem happy together."

"We _are_ happy," she corrected with feigned severity.

Another nod from Leliana and a tiny smile. "I am glad for all three of you and wish you all the very best."

"Whatever happens, I'm glad Josephine has a concerned friend here," Malika told her sincerely.

Leliana sighed, looking sad for a moment. "I have so few true friends these days. Those that are left, I... deeply cherish." She straightened, banishing the sadness from her features. "I will not trouble you any further, but I do watch over my friends. Good evening, Malika."

"Good evening." Malika nodded and waited until Leliana had disappeared through the door before slumping against the war table. She'd worried that Leliana would ask if she'd seen Laina in the future Redcliffe as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to include the bit with Leliana to show how much she cares for Josephine. Regarding what Malika says about Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden (Dalish elf, for the record): my thought process was Corypheus was able to control them in the future Redcliffe because they're both Wardens. Refusal to stand by Loghain or not, Alistair had still taken the Joining, leaving him vulnerable.


	8. The Ball and What Comes After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball at the Winter Palace brings about more than one complication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated the Winter Palace quest at first, but now I find it one of the most fun to do. It's a nice change of pace from killing everything.

Josephine felt a flash of panic when she found Yvette at the ball, worried that whatever Corypheus' people had planned would endanger her sister. Reluctantly, she resolved to stay by Yvette's side. If nothing else, she could stand between her sister and any potential danger. She felt an entirely different flash of panic when Malika joined them, looking curious. "Josephine! Oh, Josephine, is this her?"

"Inquisitor, please allow me to present to you my younger sister," Josephine explained with a resigned sigh. She'd hoped to have some choice as to when Malika and Blackwall met her family. "Yvette Gabriella Montilyet."

Malika grinned, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "There can never be too many Lady Montilyets in Thedas, can there?"

Giggling at the compliment, Yvette said, "Inquisitor, I've heard so much about you! But not as much as I want." Pouting, she added pointedly, "Josephine writes, but she never _tells_ me anything." Quickly, she asked, "Is it true you and Josephine are going to elope and move to the Anderfels and join the Grey Wardens and fight darkspawn?"

"Yvette!" Josephine was aghast. _Where does she **get** these ideas?_

"I want to know!" Yvette replied, as oblivious as ever.

Managing to stifle her giggles, Malika told her, "Rumors exaggerate many things, Lady Yvette."

"It sounded so romantic," Yvette responded, sounding disappointed.

Josephine shook her head slightly. _That must be why she believed it._ Josephine tensed the next moment when Malika, her smile turning mischievous, said, "This may be my only chance to hear about when Josephine was a girl."

"Oh, yes!" Yvette's face seemed to light up behind her mask. "Has she told about when she was ten and--"

Malika stifled a laugh when Josephine interrupted her sister, not wishing Malika to hear of anything embarrassing. "Yvette. Stop."

"Fine." That didn't actually stop Yvette, not that Josephine was really surprised. "What about when we were climbing the cliffs by the--"

Again, Josephine stopped her sister, this time with one emphatic word. "No."

"She once told the Duke of--" Yvette tried yet again.

This time, Josephine was stricken, her cheeks heating at the memory of what she'd said to the Duke. "Absolutely not."

"Hmph." Yvette seemed to pout again for a moment before saying, all in a rush. "She still plays with her doll collection when no one's looking!"

"Yvette!" Josephine avoided looking at Malika, not sure what her lover would think of that particular fact. "That's... absurd. Absolutely preposterous!"

Yvette giggled, looking very pleased with herself for having managed to reveal that one fact. Malika laughed and caught Josephine's hand, giving it a squeeze. After talking with them for a little longer, Malika left to start her investigation in earnest. Josephine turned her attention to watching the other guests at the ball.

*

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" Blackwall tensed at the query from the noble. He didn't recognize his voice, but the mask could easily hide someone he _had_ known. "Ah! Lord Rudalt de Lancre... I've seen you in his company before, no?"

Shaking his head even though he _had_ served in the company, Blackwall told him, "I... don't think we've met my lord. I'm just a Grey Warden."

"A Grey Warden?" The noble sounded puzzled. "Odd, your face is so familiar. Around the eyes, especially. Perhaps without that beard..." Blackwall ignored a flash of panic at his last statement. He'd grown his beard to _avoid_ being recognized. Waving at a servant, the noble called, "More wine! It will come to me."

He breathed a silent sigh of relief as the noble walked away. _I suppose it was too much to hope that no one would recognize me._

"Blackwall?" Malika's voice brought a smile to his face even as he wondered if she'd overheard his conversation with the noble.

Rather than ask, he simply told her, "I'm ready for anything. Just give the word."

"So... Silverite Wings of Valor?" Malika asked, raising her eyebrows curiously. "What did you get that for?"

That had been as much a surprise for him when the herald had announced him. He couldn't very well tell Malika _that_ , though. Instead, he decided to sidestep the question: "For... valor."

"Care to elaborate?" Not surprisingly, Malika wasn't satisfied with his answer.

He shook his head, wishing he didn't have to disappoint her. "It was a long time ago. Back when we didn't stop to boast about past victories when there was an assassin on the loose."

"Point taken." Malika chuckled, not offended by his less-than-subtle reminder of why they were at the ball in the first place. "Wait for my signal."

Blackwall nodded. "Of course, my lady."

"Don't forget to save a dance for me," she added, blue eyes full of promises.

He smiled back. "All of them."

With that, she set off to continue her investigation.

*

"There are at least a dozen young lords and ladies hoping for some time with the hero of the night," Blackwall informed Malika as he and Josephine joined her after the ball.

Malika barely managed a smile for them. "Is everything all right, Mal? You look troubled."

"I wish I could have done something to save Gaspard," she confided in a low voice, scrubbing her eyes. "He didn't need to die."

Blackwall chuckled wryly. "You never give up on people, do you? No matter how lost they are."

"It was regrettable," Josephine added, resting one hand on Malika's back. "But he made his choice when he declared his war. His death was his own doing, not yours."

Malika pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, trying to stop the burning sensation of unshed tears. "I wish--"

"We know, my lady." Blackwall slipped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

Josephine did the same on her other side. "You can't save everyone."

"I suppose not." Malika looked up at them, both her lovers on either side of her. "I wish I could dance with you both at the same time."

After a moment of staring, Blackwall chuckled. "A little greedy, aren't you, my lady?"

"She's been through a lot tonight," Josephine reminded him. Looking down at Malika, she continued, "We _could_ all dance together, if you don't mind not following any actual dance steps."

Malika smiled, sliding her arms around their waists. "I just want to stay close to you two right now."

"I know how you feel," Blackwall replied with a fond smile.

They moved away from the railing towards the middle of the balcony. Then Blackwall and Josephine moved towards each other so he could slide his free arm around Josephine's shoulders and she could wrap hers around his waist. "Is this fine, Mal?"

"It's perfect, Josie," Malika assured her, liking the way this kept the three of them very close to each other.

Slight pressure guided them into a slow revolving circle as they held each other close. "Is your sister always like that, my lady Josie?"

"She is, yes." Josephine sighed heavily, resting her head on his shoulder.

Malika laughed, suddenly remembering what Yvette had asked when Josephine introduced them to each other. "Yvette wanted to know if we were going to elope and move--"

"I get the picture." Blackwall chuckled, a deep rumble that vibrated in his chest.

Josephine groaned this time. "I love my family, but they drive me crazy at times."

"I _quite_ understand, Josie." Malika pressed her cheek against Josephine's side for a moment. "Shayla, at least, is more sensible than Yvette."

His voice thoughtful, Blackwall offered, "I think it's the goal of _all_ younger siblings to drive their elder siblings crazy."

"I think you're right, Blackwall," Josephine replied, sounding aggravated. "My brothers certainly do _their_ part in driving me crazy."

Malika shook her head slightly. "I only have Shayla."

"And I just have my sister," Blackwall sounded almost apologetic.

Josephine laughed softly. "I'm just lucky, I guess."

"Of course you are." Malika gently brought them to a stop. "You have _us_ , after all."

Blackwall smiled fondly at them. "Indeed, my ladies."

"I am _very_ glad and grateful to have you two in my life." Josephine's eyes were suspiciously moist in the mage lights.

Grinning, Malika drew her down for a warm, tender kiss. She watched as Blackwall kissed Josephine, too, one of his hands resting against her neck. Malika was ready and waiting when he turned to kiss her as well. As they held each other in comfortable silence, Malika wished they were back at Skyhold already. She missed having either of her lovers in bed with her. She didn't sleep well alone anymore.

*

" _There_ you are!" Josephine was both relieved and upset when Blackwall and Malika entered her office. "I've been looking all over for you two. I've just received the most terrible news."

Malika closed the distance between them, looking worried as she took Josephine's hands in hers. "What is it? What's wrong, Josie?"

"Is someone hurt?" Blackwall followed Malika over, looking just as worried.

Josephine looked between them, agonized. "I'm engaged." Normally, such news was more than welcome. Now, though, it would divide her from the man and woman she only now realized were the ones she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

"When did this happen?" Malika asked, blue eyes wide with shock. Blackwall seemed to be speechless, just staring at her.

Giving a sigh of frustration, Josephine tugged her hands free and wrapped her arms across her waist, pacing away from Malika and Blackwall. "For the past year, my mother and father have searched Antiva for a match for me." She turned back to see that both her lovers had followed her, listening intently. "They had no idea that we had grown so... close." Josephine bit back the word 'love'. It was not the right time to bring it up. "Today, I received a letter declaring they've betrothed me to Lord Adorno Ciel Otranto of Antiva." She looked at each of them sadly. "I must deal with this, but until then, we cannot be seen in a compromising situation. I'm so sorry."

"Are you saying we should act like _nothing_ has happened between us?" Malika asked, looking both angry and wounded.

Blackwall rested a hand on Malika's shoulder. "Is there anything _we_ can do?"

"No! Not at all!" Josephine shook her head, longing to take their hands once again. "But it is not right that we carry on while I am betrothed. I _must_ break off the match first."

Malika nodded, looking calmer. After a moment's thought, she asked, "I assume your parents have political alliances resting on this engagement?"

"Politics, my lady?" Blackwall asked, staring down at Malika in surprise.

Josephine sighed again, still very upset that her parents had put her in this position, albeit unknowingly. "For once, that is something quite far from my mind. This is _not_ what I wanted to happen! I barely remember Lord Otranto!" Still upset, she turned and walked to her desk. "I must see to this. And my other duties." Shrugging with frustration, she muttered, "If I can keep my mind on them today at all!"

"You never did answer Blackwall's question." Malika followed her to the desk, thankfully staying on the other side. Blackwall remained beside the couch, his hands folded behind his back. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Blackwall chuckled humorlessly. "I doubt there is, Mal."

"He is Antivan. The only acceptable thing to do would be to challenge him to a duel for my favor," Josephine gave them a helpless look. She was well aware that Malika preferred to keep her distance from her enemies, presumably because she was better with a bow and arrows than a sword or daggers. Blackwall had the skill, certainly, but he wasn't noble-born.

Looking thoughtful, Malika commented, "Every family has scandals. Maybe Leliana or I can find something to persuade Otranto to give up the match."

"That might not be a good idea, Mal." Blackwall finally joined Malika by Josephine's desk.

Josephine shook her head quickly. There was no need to drag the Inquisition into her personal business! "Please, Mal, no! If Otranto found out, he'd challenge _you_ to a duel." She sighed softly, resigned to explaining things. "The traditional form of dueling among Antivan nobles isn't usually fatal, but there's always a chance of harm." When she looked up to meet Malika's eyes, she let some of her worry for her safety show. "I hardly wish to see you skewered on a swordpoint for the sake of my honor." She glanced at Blackwall. "Either of you."

"If I dueled this Lord Otranto, I could force him to give up his betrothal with you?" Malika asked, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

Blackwall rested his hand on her shoulder. "Mal..."

"But you could be hurt!" Josephine objected, touched that Malika refused to drop the idea, but worried about her safety if she pursued it. Blackwall, at least, seemed to be on Josephine's side. "Dueling is a _very_ precise sport. Men and women spend years perfecting their skills with a rapier." She blinked back the sting of tears. "I couldn't _bear_ to think of my family putting you in any further danger. Again."

Malika began to pace, her hands clasped behind her back. "What can you tell us about Lord Otranto?"

"What sort of man is he?" Blackwall added, turning so he could see both women.

Josephine found the letter from her mother amongst the papers on her desk. "His family runs several shipping companies in Antiva that do very well. Of the man's temper and disposition and habits? I know nothing." Shaking her head, she corrected herself, "Well, Mother claims he enjoys sailing and dueling, but what Antivan lord doesn't?"

"You don't favor this marriage, Josie, do you?" Malika stopped in her tracks to ask the question, as if it'd only just occurred to her.

Blackwall walked over to hug Malika. "Of course not. She wouldn't be this upset about it if she _did_ favor it."

"Ser Blackwall is quite right." Josephine clasped her hands tightly in her lap to resist the impulse to reach out for her lovers and reassure them when they winced at her use of 'Ser'. She was betrothed now and couldn't risk a scandal. "If I hadn't met either of you, perhaps I'd have been amenable, but honestly. Neither of you need to worry."

Moving towards the desk, Malika queried, "Does Antiva law force you to marry? Can't you break off the betrothal?"

"Laws are not that simple, Mal." Blackwall sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair.

Josephine nodded her agreement. "In theory, I very easily could. In reality, if I reject Lord Otranto without proper niceties, it will scar my family's name. Perhaps ignite a feud." Sadly, she admitted, "Disentangling myself from the engagement will take months. Or years."

"While you're worried about your family, what happens to the three of us?" Malika paced to peer out the window, her lips pressed together.

Blackwall walked over to join Malika, resting his hands on her shoulders, his voice quiet. "Mal?"

"I _cannot_ be with either of you until the question of this engagement is settled." She hated to say as much, but her family's reputation was very important to her efforts to rebuild their trading fleet. Still, she needed to reassure them as best she could. "As... as much as I might wish to. Oh, why did this become so dreadfully _complicated_?"

Nodding, Malika reached up to squeeze Blackwall's hands before walking over and resting her hand on the desk, near where Josephine's rested. "I fear I've taken up too much of your time, Lady Montilyet. Until later."

"Until then, Inquisitor." Josephine replied, just barely brushing her fingers against Malika's. Maker, it _hurt_ to hear her title from Malika.

Returning the brush of fingers, Malika turned and left Josephine's office. Blackwall walked over and bent to kiss Josephine's hand. Then, without a word, he followed Malika from the room, his back ramrod straight. Alone for the moment, Josephine buried her face in her hands. _Why did this have to happen **now**?_

*

Blackwall followed Malika as she walked boldly through the marketplace in Val Royeaux. They had agreed that, while Blackwall was better with a sword, Malika should challenge Otranto for Josephine's hand because she was the Inquisitor and would be considered an appropriate opponent for an Antivan lord. A handsome Antivan man in the prime of life accompanied by a dark-skinned elven man with white-blond hair and a tattoo down the side of his face stopped them. "Inquisitor Cadash? I am Lord Otranto of Antiva, rightfully betrothed of Lady Josephine Montilyet." Blackwall clasped his hands tightly behind his back as Otranto retrieved the rapiers from the elf. "Songs of your exploits have spread to my city, Inquisitor. It's humbling to make your acquaintance." He tossed one to Malika, who caught it easily with one hand. She took a few experimental swings with it, testing the weight and balance like Blackwall had shown her. He and the elf quickly backed up as Otranto began to circle Malika, who settled into a ready stance. Otranto pointed his blade at her. "It is a pity it will not last longer."

"Are we going to duel?" Malika asked, sounding bored even as she turned in place to keep Otranto in front of her. "Or just chat?"

"Before we duel, I trust you find the weapon to your satisfaction?" Otranto asked, still circling.

Malika didn't take her eyes off her opponent. "I trust you've made this a fair fight, Lord Otranto."

"Upon my honor," he assured her, readying his blade with a flourish of his wrist that would have left him with a stump in a proper battle. "Shall we begin?"

They began to duel, the sound of swords clanging ringing out across the marketplace. Blackwall kept his hands tightly clasped behind his back once more as Malika constantly gave ground to Otranto, parrying his attacks, but making none of her own. Beside him, the elf had moved around the cleared area and said, "She is an archer, no?"

"What makes you think that?" Blackwall asked, glancing at the elf before returning his attention to the duel.

A chuckle. "She is focusing more on keeping Lord Otranto at bay than actually fighting him. It is a hard habit to break."

"An admirable start, Inquisitor," Otranto complimented her before Blackwall could respond. He _had_ noticed that while he and Malika practiced. They had worked with that, though, and developed a strategy to account for it. After a few more exchanges where neither made it past the other's guard, he added, "And I was worried a civilized weapon might puzzle you, Lady Cadash!"

Both became more aggressive, attacking and parrying with clear intent. "She's not much for talking, is she?"

"It's more she prefers not to rise to Lord Otranto's bait," Blackwall retorted calmly.

Pausing in his flurry of attacks, Otranto remarked, "I'm glad Lady Montilyet isn't here, exquisite as I've heard her appearance to be." Another flurry of attacks and they closed with each other, glaring over their locked blades mere feet from Blackwall. "Cutting you down in front of Josephine would've given a poor first impression of House Otranto to my bride."

"Strange," Malika finally replied, showing no sign of exertion beyond the sweat trickling down her temple and slightly quickened breathing. "I would think the Otrantos already have enough blood on their hands after cheating the Terrazas."

The bored amusement on Otranto's face disappeared, replaced by fury as he hissed, "Who told you--" and flung her back from him. "You _dare_ to bring up that slander here?"

"Hmmm. Clever," the elf remarked thoughtfully. "Leliana's work, finding that out, I take it?"

Blackwall glanced at the other man in surprise. "How do you--"

"I have my ways." The elf offered him a sly smile and a wink. "Watch the duel, Ser Blackwall."

Angry now, Otranto's attacks were wild and careless, easily batted aside by Malika, who remained calm and unruffled. Finally, she took advantage of an opening and managed to slice the shoulder of his sword arm, drawing blood. Glaring, he snarled, "Inquisitor, I will personally--"

" _Stop!_ " Josephine's voice rang through the marketplace.

Blackwall stifled a groan. "This was supposed to finish _before_ she showed up."

"Alas, plans rarely survive contact with an enemy or a friend." The elf tucked an envelope into Blackwall's belt. "Please give this to Leliana for me."

Before Blackwall could reply, he slipped away. Josephine pushed between two of the spectators and took a moment to survey the scene. Malika's face lit up like a lantern and Blackwall's heart ached at the way her entire demeanor changed. He wondered if she did the same when she saw _him_. "Josephine!"

She stalked towards Malika, right past Otranto, who tried to introduce himself: "Lady Montilyet! What a pleasure to--"

"What are you _doing_?" Josephine completely ignored Otranto, who turned to watch with the rest as she asked her question.

"If I duel Otranto to stop your betrothal, any dishonor falls on me--not your family," Malika explained in a rush, looking earnest now.

Josephine shook her head, looking far more agitated and upset than Blackwall had ever seen before except in private. "I would've found a way around it! The Inquisition needs you! _I_ need you!" Did that mean... "Yet you threw yourself into danger!"

"Not like she hasn't before," Blackwall muttered to himself, stepping forward to join Malika. She smiled up at him.

Still upset, Josephine turned to face them, nodding slightly to acknowledge Blackwall's presence. She still demanded, "Why do this? Why risk everything we've built? Why risk your _life_?"

"Because I love you!" The words seemed to burst out of Malika and Blackwall bit his cheek to hide a smile. He'd suspected it for some time, but it was lovely to hear.

Josephine stared at Malika, stunned out of her anger. "You... you do?"

"She does?" Otranto echoed, not that anyone seemed to be paying attention to him.

Looking as stunned as Josephine, Malika tossed the rapier to the ground. "I wasn't quite sure until I said it, but... yes, yes, I love you."

"I love you, too." A smile spread across Josephine's face, lighting it up and taking Blackwall's breath away.

Blackwall took a few steps back as Josephine ran forward and Malika caught her in her arms, spinning her in a circle before lowering her to the ground so they could kiss, sweet and tender, and then hug each other close. He was happy for them both, but Maker how he wished he could join them! _Later, when we're not standing in the middle of a crowded marketplace._

"Lady Cadash." Lord Otranto stepped forward, drawing their attention to him. "Well-fought."

Looking worried, Josephine started, "Lord Otranto--"

"I'd assumed your liaison with the Inquisitor was an affair of passion or convenience, Lady Montilyet," he told her, smiling and gracious in defeat as he sheathed the sword. "But I'm not enough of a fool to stand in the way of true affection." Josephine and Malika exchanged delighted smiles as he continued, "The Otrantos regretfully withdraw the terms of our betrothal."

Josephine's voice was full of happiness as she told him, "Thank you."

"Do not thank me." He bowed respectfully. "I know when I am outmatched." Stooping to pick up the rapier Malika had tossed aside, he left the marketplace.

As the crowd dispersed, Josephine turned back to Malika, who told her, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about arranging the duel."

"Given that you are in one piece, body and dignity, I forgive you," Josephine told her playfully. "Just do kiss me again."

Malika did just that and Blackwall moved closer once they finished. "My ladies."

"Oh, Blackwall." Josephine smiled and hugged him. As she did, she whispered, "I love _you_ , too, you know."

His heart leapt in his chest. "Perhaps we should discuss this in private."

"Privacy sounds really good right now," Malika agreed cheerfully. "We have rooms waiting for us nearby."

Josephine nodded and they headed towards the inn they'd stayed at before where they'd begun their relationship.

*

Feeling quite refreshed after her bath, Malika tucked one towel around herself and dried her hair with another one as she left the bathing room off the bedroom she was sharing with Josephine. "Well, that's a lovely sight."

"Hello, Blackwall." Smiling brightly, Malika crossed to where he now sat on the couch with Josephine and kissed him, warm and hungry. When they parted, she cupped his face between her hands, holding his gaze with hers. "I love _you_ , too. Not just Josie. _Both_ of you."

He gazed back at her for a moment, and then a smile slowly spread across his face. He brought his hands up to cup her hands with his so he could press kisses to both her palms. "And I love _you_ , Mal." Sitting up, he leaned over to kiss Josephine's cheek. "And you, too, Josie. You are both my ladies and I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you both."

" _Thank_ you, Blackwall." Josephine flung her arms around Blackwall, hugging him tight.

Laughing, he hugged her back. Amused, Malika walked over to the bed where she'd laid out her clean clothes. "It's about time, Blackwall."

"For what?" Blackwall asked, sounding breathless, as Malika dressed.

Sounding just as breathless, Josephine said, "You said _just_ Josie. You didn't say lady first."

"We don't mind you calling us 'my lady', but sometimes it's nice to hear just our names," Malika added, walking over to join them, brush in hand.

As she dragged a footstool over in front of Josephine and perched on it, Blackwall explained, "It just didn't feel quite right to _not_ say 'my lady' first."

"You've said _just_ Mal's name before," Josephine pointed out, taking the brush and beginning to run it through Malika's hair, which had grown from chin-length to just below her shoulders. "But not _just_ mine."

Malika fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. "We're not complaining, mind. It's just strange that you've persisted."

"I'm sure you both noticed that you two are the only women I've called _my_ ladies," Blackwall reminded them, sounding quite pleased with himself. "There's a reason for that."

Josephine finished pulling Malika's hair back into a ponytail and they turned to look at him. "Wait-- it was your way of saying 'my love'?"

"From the start?" Malika added, her eyes growing wide.

Blackwall had a small, pleased smile on his face as he looked from one to the other. "Yes, pretty much."

"Oh!" Josephine practically pounced on Blackwall, knocking him flat on his back. She kissed him soundly.

Malika stepped from the footstool to the couch. When Josephine released Blackwall, Malika took her place, kissing him soundly. "Somehow, I love you even more."

"I'm flattered, my ladies." He looked from Malika to Josephine, the glint in his eyes making the honorific even more of an endearment.

They kissed him at the same time, something they'd never attempted before. Malika hadn't thought three people _could_ kiss each other all at once. Apparently, she hadn't been creative enough. It _was_ possible, if a little awkward and messy. That was relationships, though. Drawing back for a moment to catch her breath, Malika was amused to realize that Josephine had raised her right foot in the air so her toes pointed at the ceiling. She moved down to tug Blackwall's boots off for him. "Mal?"

"Do you _really_ think we're going anywhere after we've all admitted that we love each other?" Malika asked Josephine with raised eyebrows.

Blackwall chuckled and tugged at the sash wrapped around Josephine's waist. "She makes a good point, Josie."

"Yes, she does." Josephine sat up so Blackwall could remove her sash entirely.

They slowly moved to the bed, undressing each other as they went. By the time they tumbled onto the bed together, they were all naked. Afterwards, they lay tangled with each other and the covers, Josephine and Malika on either side of Blackwall. Malika stretched, feeling pleasantly sore, and kissed Blackwall's chest, right over his heart. "When did you know you loved us, Blackwall?"

"I'm not sure." He idly smoothed his hand down her back. "Perhaps after Haven, when I faced the possibility of losing both of you to hypothermia."

Malika nodded, pressing closer to him. She'd heard later that Josephine had almost frozen to death as well, though she hadn't come as near to it as Malika herself. Josephine stretched up to kiss Blackwall's cheek, and then peered at Malika across his chest. "What about you, Mal?"

"I knew I felt more than idle attraction after Redcliffe." She let out a shuddering breath at the memory of Josephine dying in her arms and Blackwall sacrificing himself for her and Dorian. "But love itself... I'd say after the assassin from the House of Repose attacked you. Both of you were in danger from her daggers. That's part of why I punched her out: because she nearly took you both from me."

Blackwall kissed the top of her head and Josephine sat up to lean across him and kiss Malika's forehead. Before Josephine could lay back down, Blackwall asked, "Your turn, Josephine. When did you know?"

"When I received the news from Mother about my betrothal," Josephine admitted quietly. "Knowing I would have to stay away from you both until I could disentangle myself from the betrothal, I realized that I would much rather spend the rest of my life with _you two_ instead of Lord Otranto."

Smiling tenderly, Josephine kissed each of them in turn before laying back down with her head on Blackwall's shoulder. Malika sighed deeply and contentedly. "Love you both. So much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _had_ to include the conversations with Yvette and the noble who seemed to recognize Blackwall. They both make me laugh for _very_ different reasons.


	9. Adamant Fortress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to break Corypheus' hold on the Wardens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember if any of these scenes are from the original.

After weeks and months of preparing and strategizing, they were as ready as they could be to lay siege to Adamant Fortress. In her few spare moments, Josephine took refuge in needlework. She made no effort to hide it from her lovers, though her project was for both of them. Josephine sat up from Blackwall's embrace with a smile when Malika arrived at their rooms. "Ah, Mal, I wondered when you'd be joining us."

"Hello, my lady Mal." Blackwall straightened up, too, running his fingers through his hair.

Malika climbed onto the couch with a fake scowl. "You know how to melt a woman's heart."

"He can do more than that when he puts his mind to it." Josephine chuckled as they exchanged soft, sweet kisses of greeting. 

His voice gruff, though he looked pleased by their comments, he grumbled, "You ladies are determined to make me blush."

"We do our best." Malika giggled, settling between them. Sobering, she looked up at Josephine. "I have something for you."

Josephine stared down at her curiously, and then she looked at Blackwall. "You do?"

"Whatever it is, Josie, it's just _her_ gift. She hasn't told me about it." Blackwall raised his hands in mock surrender.

Malika glanced at him over her shoulder with a reassuring smile. "You'll see why in a moment." Turning back to Josephine, she pulled a box out of her pocket and presented it to Josephine. "For you, my love."

"Thank you, my love. Josephine felt her cheeks heat with a blush even as she accepted the box and opened it. She gasped when she saw the locket nestled amongst the silk. "It's-- why, this is our original coat of arms!"

Blackwall leaned forward to peer over Malika's shoulder as Josephine lifted it out of the box to examine it. "What's on the other side?"

"The other side is the crest for House Cadash from before our exile." Malika patted his hand where it rested around her waist.

Remembering their discussion back in Haven, Josephine asked as she carefully examining the locket. "Did you make this yourself?"

"What?" Behind Malika, Blackwall gave a start.

Malika shifted to look up at him. "That's right, you weren't part of that conversation." Tapping the wooden rose she wore pinned to her vest, she told him, "We were discussing the fact that we'd both received carved roses and I mentioned to Josie that dwarves craft their courting gifts because we value craftsmanship as well as strength of arms."

"I asked Mal what _she_ would make for a courting gift if she chose to make one." Josephine added with a smile.

Blackwall raised his eyebrows. "Jewelry? Not weaponry or armor?" 

"If I hadn't needed to join the Carta, I probably _would_ have become a jeweler." Malika shrugged, hands fidgeting in her lap. "I _planned_ to make one for each of you, but yours has taken me longer to get right."

Josephine toyed with the locket in her hands, curious. "So why not wait until you _do_ have both right?" 

"Because we're leaving for Adamant tomorrow and we don't know what's going to happen." As ever, Blackwall understood Malika in a way that Josephine didn't. She wasn't jealous, because there were times when the reverse held true.

Malika nodded, looking pleased. "Exactly." Taking the locket from Josephine, she pressed a hidden catch to open it. "There's nothing here at the moment, but I thought we could put locks of mine and Blackwall's hair in here."

"I'd like that." Josephine nodded, her eyes suddenly stinging with unshed tears at the suggestion. 

Blackwall nodded when Malika looked at him inquiringly. "I'd be honored,"

In short order, they'd each cut a lock of their hair, twined them together, and placed them in the locket. At Josephine's request, Malika clasped it around her neck. "It's not nearly as beautiful as you, but that would be difficult to accomplish."

"Oh, Mal." Josephine shook her head, and then kissed Malika sweet and soft. Before Malika could deepen the kiss, she drew back. "Oh! I just remembered something!"

Josephine got up and hurried over to her workbasket. As she retrieved the gifts she'd made for Malika and Blackwall, she heard him ask, "All right, my lady?"

"Just startled," Malika assured him as Josephine neatened up her workbasket once she found the gifts for her loves.

She stood up and turned to them, her hands behind her back as she approached the couch. "You're not the only one who's had that conversation on her mind, my love."

"Is there something _you_ wish to give us, my lady?" Blackwall asked curiously.

Nodding, Josephine drew the two gifts from behind her back and offered them to Blackwall and Malika together. "I wondered."

"These can be worn wherever you think best, my loves." Josephine watched as they untied the ribbons and unfolded the paper around their gifts, clasping her hands tightly as she waited for their reactions.

Her heart seemed to sink when Blackwall frowned in puzzlement. It cleared after a moment, replaced by understanding. "Oh!"

"It's beautiful, Josie," Malika assured her lover, fingering the shiny gold cloth in her hands. Embroidered around the edges was a simplified version of the House Cadash crest, alternating with a bow and arrows and books, picked out in blue thread.

Josephine smiled, pleased and relieved that they both liked their gifts. "You have a token from Blackwall already, so I wanted you to have one from me as well."

"Thank you, my lady," Blackwall responded gravely, carefully holding a second length of gold cloth. Embroidered around the edges were griffons alternating with a sword and shield, and woodcarving tools, also picked out in blue thread.

Malika looked at Josephine with a radiant smile, blue eyes suspiciously bright. "It's wonderful."

"I'm so very glad you both like them." Josephine smiled brightly, rejoining them on the couch.

After a moment, Blackwall stood up, and then knelt to present his left upper arm to Josephine. "Could you tie it onto my arm for me, my lady?"

"Why on that arm?" Malika wondered curiously.

Josephine had already begun to tie the favor into place, the gold bright against the dark material of his gambeson. "Perhaps so he can see it?"

"Precisely, my lady." Blackwall smiled once she finished and gently drew her head down to his for a warm kiss. When they parted, she let her forehead rest against his as he explained, "When we fight, I'll see it out of the corner of my eye and think of Josie."

Smiling, Malika nodded, and then extended her right arm to Josephine. "Around my wrist, then."

"For a similar reason?" Josephine asked, even as she took the cloth and tied it around Malika's wrist like she'd asked.

Blackwall chuckled, still kneeling in front of Josephine and lightly rubbing her knees, distracting her. "I believe you have the right of it, my lady Josie."

"Exactly." Malika nodded and mimed drawing a bow. The gold cloth caught the firelight. "Thank you again, Josie."

Before she could respond, Malika drew her down for a warm kiss. They spent the rest of the evening saying good-bye in a more intimate fashion.

*

"Perhaps _I_ should be afraid, facing the most powerful members of the Inquisition." The Nightmare's ironic chuckle made the sarcasm behind his words clear enough.

In the lead, Malika's hands balled into fists. "Shit, that doesn't sound good."

"All the influence you've gained as Inquisitor will be for nothing, Inquisitor Cadash." Of _course_ the Nightmare focused on the Inquisitor first, reminding Blackwall of Cole's ability to read minds. At least Cole did it for good reasons. "You will fail and take your friends down with you."

Her posture stiff, Malika said, "I will _not_ fail. I _will_ stop Corypheus."

"That's right, my lady." Blackwall moved to walk at her side, gripping her shoulder for a moment to comfort her.

She offered him a wan smile, covering his hand with hers and squeezing gently. They both stiffened at the Nightmare's next words: "Ah, Blackwall, there's nothing like a Grey Warden. And you are _nothing_ like a Grey Warden."

"I'll show you a Warden's strength, beast," he countered, ignoring the curious looks from the others. Except Loghain, who kept marching forward alongside them.

Malika squeezed his hand again. "He's the one who should be afraid."

"Greetings Dorian," the Nightmare startled them several minutes later with its remark. "It _is_ Dorian, isn't it? For a moment, I mistook you for your father."

Scowling, Dorian only commented, "Rather uncalled for."

"Obviously, he hasn't _met_ your father," Malika told Dorian firmly, giving him a brief hug.

He returned the hug with a shadow of his usual smile and they carried on through the Fade. Cassandra glowered when the Nightmare addressed her after a short silence," Your Inquisitor is a fraud, Cassandra. Yet more evidence there is no Maker, that all your 'faith' has been for naught."

"Die in the Void, demon," she practically snarled the words, brandishing her sword as if she would attack it if only she could see it.

Malika reached up to touch Cassandra's arm. "If you believe in the Maker, Cass, He's there."

"Thank you, Inquisitor." Cassandra's scowl softened at the reminder.

After retrieving the last of Malika's memories (which she'd _hated_ not having), the Nightmare focused on their other companions. "Did you think you mattered Hawke? Did you think anything you ever did mattered?" Maria's grip on her bow tightened, her jaw tensing as the Nightmare continued, "You couldn't even save your city. How could you expect to strike down a god? Isabela is going to die, just like your family, and everyone you ever cared about."

"I _knew_ he was going to--" she stopped and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Doesn't make it any easier to hear."

Moving to her side, Malika opened her arms. "Hug?"

"Thank you." A faint smile twitching her lips, Maria hugged Malika tightly.

That settled, they proceeded towards the Divine or the spirit that looked like her. Finally, the Nightmare addressed Loghain: "Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, the brilliant commander. Pity the one time you tried to rule, you failed so miserably." As they fought groups of smaller demons, Loghain's swings seemed fiercer, more agitated. "You had to be beaten, humiliated, lest you destroy your own country. You even doomed the Wardens by bringing the Inquisitor down on them. You destroy everything you touch."

"Is that all you've got?" Loghain asked with a grunt once the last of the demons were dead. "It's nothing I've not said to myself."

Malika didn't reach out to him like she had the rest of them, only saying, "And you haven't destroyed anything, either. Ferelden still stands and the Wardens still fight."

"You sound like Laina," he told her with a tilt of his head and a tiny smile. "She always saw the best in everyone. That's why I'm still alive."

Looking wistful, Malika said, "I hope to meet her someday."

"Perhaps you will." He gestured with his sword. "The spirit is waiting for us."

Nodding, Malika set off once more. Having taunted each of them, the Nightmare seemed content with vague threats now, certain they would fail. Eventually, they reached a graveyard with neat rows of gravestones, each with the name of someone from the inner circle. Under each name was their deepest, darkest fears. Under Blackwall’s name was simply the word 'himself'. Glaring at the little graveyard, Cassandra demanded, "Where's Malika's fear? Our fears are here, but not hers?"

Blackwall gripped the Seeker's shoulder firmly. "This _is_ her fear, Cassandra."

"All of us dead and her alive," Dorian added, pale under his mustache and goatee.

Maria dropped to one knee beside the Inquisitor, who stood still as a statue with her head bowed and eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking down her cheeks. Pressing her forehead against Malika's temple, Hawke whispered fiercely, "This isn't _real_ , Mal. Nightmare is just trying to mess with your mind. None of your friends are dead. They're all alive and well."

"I'm here, my lady." Blackwall hugged Malika tight, kissing the top of her head. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."

Dorian knelt on Malika's other side, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "We have big plans, Mal. We'll boot Nightmare clear across the Fade and get you back to your lady love."

"This isn't going to happen," Cassandra added, kneeling behind Malika and gripping her shoulders firmly. "We'll make sure of it. None of us are easy to kill."

Malika let out a soft sob and squeezed Dorian's hand. She wrapped her free arm around Blackwall's waist, tilting her head to press against Cassandra's hands. After a few ragged breaths, she opened her eyes and peered at Maria. "Thank you. All of you."

"You're not alone," Hawke told her, squeezing her shoulder gently.

Slowly, they stood up and composed themselves. Malika finally stepped into the little graveyard and traced the name on one of the headstones that Blackwall hadn't noticed before. He drew in a sharp breath when he saw the name on it: Josephine. Underneath it was one word: _inarticulate_.

Before she left the graveyard, Malika focused for a moment and a trap appeared in her hands. She set it in the middle of the graveyard. As they continued towards the rift that would, hopefully, take them back to Adamant, the trap blew up, destroying the headstones.

*

Tears blurring her vision, Malika hesitated to jump through the rift. She could see Loghain fighting the Nightmare, sword flashing. She didn't want _anyone_ to die for her, but it seemed it would always happen in the end. Reluctantly, she finally jumped through the rift, finding herself back in the courtyard where they'd confronted Clarel. Slowly, she straightened up and closed the rift with a gesture of her marked hand. All around the courtyard, the demons vanished in bursts of green energy. As the soldiers cheered, she could see Blackwall, Dorian, Cassandra, and Maria push their way through the crowd. Maria spoke once the cheers died down and she could be heard, "She was right. Without the Nightmare to control them the mages are free, and Corypheus loses his demon army. Though as far as they're all concerned, the Inquisitor broke the spell with the blessing of the Maker."

"Once they understand what _really_ happened..." she began, shaking her head in denial. She knew it would be futile to refuse.

"Honestly, after all the death they've seen," Maria interrupted gently yet firmly, understanding not only Malika's position, but also how rumors and gossip quickly changed the facts of a story. "Perhaps it would be better to let them believe the legend."

One of Leliana's agents rushed in to give her a report of what had happened while they were in the Fade. "Inquisitor. The Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared. The Venatori magister is unconscious but alive. Cullen thought you might wish to deal with him yourself. As for the Wardens, those who weren't corrupted helped us fight the demons."

"We stand ready to help make up for Clarel's... tragic mistake." A warden in plate armor had joined them and saluted. Malika barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes at the gross understatement. "Where is Loghain?"

The one question she'd dreaded since making her choice. Drawing herself up to her full height, Malika announced in the strongest, most inspiring voice she could muster, "Warden Loghain died striking a blow against a servant of the Blight." She fought to keep her voice from shaking as she continued. "We will honor his sacrifice, and remember how he exemplified the ideals of the Gray Wardens. Even as Corypheus and his servants tried to destroy you all from within."

"Inquisitor, we have no one left of any significant rank." She hid a wince. That was something she'd wondered about.

Maria met Malika's eyes and shrugged slightly. This was Malika's call. _Great..._ Taking a deep breath, knowing some of her advisors would be mad at her, she told the warrior. "You stay and do whatever you can to help. Loghain died for the ideals of the Wardens. In war, victory. And we are still at war. Do you believe the Wardens can still help?"

"I do, Your Worship," the warden replied, standing taller.

She nodded, thinking quickly. "You're still vulnerable to Corypheus, and possibly his Venatori, but there are plenty of demons that need killing."

"After all that, you give them yet another chance?" Cassandra demanded, looking angry.

If Maria disagreed with Malika's choice, she didn't show it, only telling her, "While they do that, I'll inform the Wardens at Weisshaupt what's happened. Best they not get caught off guard."

"Thank you, Your Worship," the warrior told her, his voice sincere even from within the helmet. "We will not fail you."

After he walked away, Maria bowed slightly to Malika. "Good luck, Inquisitor. It's been an honor." Her expression turned stern for a moment, "And take care of Varric for me."

"I will." Finally, Malika stepped down from the dais, wordlessly giving the others permission to begin assessing damage and injuries. While they did that, Malika hurried away, ducking around a wall to a corner.

Alone now, she crumpled to her knees and began to sob, wishing she could have saved both Maria and Loghain. When she felt a light touch on her back, Malika gasped and scrubbed hastily at her eyes. A familiar gruff voice told her, "It's just me, Mal. Let yourself cry."

"Oh, Blackwall." Whimpering, she threw herself into his arms and started crying even harder. Only distantly did she note that he'd taken time to remove his chestplate. He held her tight, rubbing her back soothingly and humming tunelessly as she cried. _I hope there's a way we can get him out of there. No one deserves to be stuck in the Fade._

*

Josephine waited impatiently for Malika and Blackwall to return from Adamant. She'd never truly been fond of them going out on these missions, but Malika was the Inquisitor and Blackwall had promised to protect her. Their letters helped and Leliana had always shared the reports she received from her agents when Malika was in the field. The most recent ones, about the actual battle and the confrontation with Warden Clarel, were unsettling. Josephine's worry for Malika increased after that one, especially since her love hadn't written since then. Blackwall had, however, and his hints about Malika's state of mind weren't encouraging. Both his letters and Leliana's reports indicated that Malika rarely spoke and even Sera found it difficult to bring a smile to Malika's face. Josephine relaxed only a little when she saw Malika ride into the courtyard with Blackwall at her side and most of their friends behind her. Cullen had decided to stay with those of their forces who were marching back to Skyhold.

When Malika saw them waiting for her, she managed a small smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Josie, Leliana. It's good to see you."

"Welcome back, Inquisitor." Leliana greeted the dwarf with one of her knowing smiles as Malika dismounted with help from Blackwall.

Josephine smiled when Malika turned to her and extended her hands. After staring for a moment, the Inquisitor brushed them aside and, stepping close, wrapped her arms around Josephine's waist. Surprised, it took Josephine a few moments to fold her arms around Malika's shoulders in return, feeling them shake under her hands. Softly, she asked, "Mal?"

"Not now," the dwarf replied, her voice muffled by their embrace. "I'm tired."

"Your rooms are ready for you," Josephine told her, glancing at Leliana, and then Blackwall, who stood nearby. Blackwall's gaze lingered on Malika, obviously concerned. "Can you make it there on your own?"

"Dunno." Malika managed a shrug without releasing Josephine. "Don't wanna be alone."

Blackwall spoke up. "Best someone takes her to her rooms, my lady ambassador. She hasn't been sleeping well."

Josephine glanced at Leliana, who nodded encouragingly. "Very well. Come along, my love."

Malika reluctantly pulled away, only to grab Josephine again when she swayed on her feet. "Whoa."

"C'mere." Blackwall stepped forward and picked Malika up. She settled against his chest with a trusting sigh. His beard made it difficult to tell, but he seemed to be blushing. "Sorry, my lady."

She smiled reassuringly at him. He didn't need to apologize for being concerned about their lover. "Come with me, Blackwall."

They made their way through the keep up to the Inquisitor's rooms. By the time they reached them, Malika was fast asleep and snoring slightly against Blackwall's shoulder. Hiding a smile, Josephine pulled the covers back so he could lay Malika down once they'd mostly undressed her. When he started to straighten up, he stopped short and glanced helplessly at Josephine. Wondering what was wrong, she moved close to see that Malika had a handful of Blackwall's gambeson clutched tightly in one hand. "She's never done that before."

"She's been having nightmares," he explained, looking back at Malika and smoothing a strand of her hair back from her face. He gently tried to tug his gambeson free, but she only tightened her grip. Blackwall sighed. "Maker's balls."

Josephine rested her hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps you should sit with her? She clearly wants you nearby right now."

"She loves you, too," Blackwall objected, even as he scooped Malika into his arms and held her close. "Don't you want to sit with her?"

Josephine smiled fondly and retrieved the bootjack that they kept for Malika and Blackwall to use to help remove their boots. Setting it in front of him, she said, "I _will_ be nearby. Don't worry about that."

"Very well." Moving carefully to avoid jostling Malika, he used the bootjack to remove his boots, which Josephine set nearby. He removed his gloves and she took those to set near Malika's vest and gloves. "Josie?"

She turned back from heading to the stairs. "I just need to send someone to retrieve my work from my desk downstairs. I won't be long."

"Yes, of course." Blackwall nodded, looking sheepish.

Smiling, Josephine continued down the stairs to send a runner to retrieve her work. When she returned to the room, Blackwall had piled pillows against the headboard and sat with Malika in his lap, his bearded cheek resting against her dark red hair. She retrieved Malika's lap desk from the sofa where the Inquisitor had left it and set it on the bed near the foot. Much to her amusement, Blackwall had fallen asleep, holding Malika as tightly as she held him.

A runner arrived with Josephine's paperwork and the day's mail and she accepted it with a smile and a gesture for quiet. The runner nodded and left on silent feet. Undressing until she wore just her blouse and skirt, Josephine settled at the foot of the bed with her work. Silence reigned except for the scratch of her pen as she took notes and drafted replies to the Inquisition's official correspondence. By the time she'd finished going through the letters, Josephine was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Tidying everything away and putting the lap desk back on the sofa, Josephine curled up next to Blackwall and rested her head on his shoulder so her forehead brushed against Malika's. Breathing in their combined scents, Josephine wound her arms around them both and let herself drift off to sleep.

*

Blackwall hadn't meant to fall asleep sitting up, but Malika had a firm grip on his gambeson and it'd been nice to hold her and breathe in the scent of earth and stone that clung to her. He'd rested his cheek against her hair, just to indulge himself for a moment, but the long days of travel with very little sleep meant he'd fallen asleep before he could shift into a more comfortable position. At some point as they'd slept, Josephine had curled up beside them, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around them. He took a moment to rest his cheek against her lustrous black hair, enjoying the scent of ink, parchment, and flowers that clung to her. In his lap, Malika shifted her weight and he stifled a groan, realizing he needed the water closet. He didn't want to disturb either woman, though, they were sleeping so peacefully. Another shift of Malika's weight and he couldn't stifle his groan this time. Malika sat up, blinking sleepily at him. "Mmm? Blackwall? Wha-- Where--?"

"If you could give me a few minutes to use the water closet, I'll explain once I've finished," he requested as quietly as he could manage.

Nodding, Malika slid off his lap and reached up to help him ease Josephine off his shoulder and down to the bed. "I have her. I'll be waiting."

"Thanks, Mal." He hurried to the water closet and sighed with relief once he finished. After washing his hands in the basin of water on the stand, he emerged to see that Malika had laid down, curled into Josephine.

Stripping down to his smalls, Blackwall climbed back into bed, this time pressing against Josephine's side. His heart skipped a beat when she sighed and nestled against his chest. It still surprised him that these two amazing women wanted _him_ of all people. Malika shifted to curl up against his other side and he wrapped his other arm around her. Giving a contented sigh, she said, "All right. Why was I asleep in your lap? Last I remember, you were carrying me up to my rooms."

"Well, we made it to your rooms," he told her, resigned to explaining. "But you wouldn't let go of my gambeson. It was easier to just sit with you."

In the moonlight from the windows, he could see her staring at him. "Really? Why didn't you just slip out of your gambeson instead of sleeping with me in your lap?"

"Why would I?" Blackwall asked, dipping his head to breathe in their combined scents "I finally had you all to myself except for Josie, I wasn't about to turn down the opportunity."

Malika stretched up to kiss his cheek, smiling fondly. "Good point."

"I thought so," he agreed with a fond smile, kissing her cheek in return. "So I sat down with you in my lap and I suppose I fell asleep."

Nodding, she shifted to rest her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Blackwall."

"Of course, my lady Mal." He chuckled when she grumbled and glared at him.

She stretched her arm across his chest. "Good night, Blackwall."

"Good night, my lady." He relaxed against the pillows with a contented sigh. He'd missed sleeping with both of them while they were away.

*

When Malika next woke up, sunlight poured into her quarters and Blackwall still slept beside her, having apparently turned towards her since they'd gone back to sleep. Whatever weighed on him while he was awake, it didn't appear to do so while he slept, making him look younger. Though she longed to touch his face, she held back, unwilling to disturb him. He hadn't been sleeping much better than her on the trip back to Skyhold. Instead, she looked around and realized that Josephine was gone. _She woke up before us?_ Just as she began to debate whether to lay back down, she heard the door to her quarters open and close, followed by the sound of delicate footsteps on the stairs. Moments later, Josephine appeared on the landing, carrying a try of food. She smiled when she saw Malika sitting up. "Good morning, my love."

"Good morning." A little reluctantly, Malika climbed down from the bed and followed Josephine over to the desk, her grumbling stomach reminding her that she hadn't eaten since they stopped for lunch the day before.

Once her hands were free, Josephine gathered Malika into a tight embrace. She returned it with pleasure, comforted by the scent of ink, parchment, and flowers. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very well," Malika told her, climbing up onto the stool that would let her eat comfortably. "How about you?"

Josephine placed one plate in front of Malika and a second in front of herself. The third, she set aside. "Quite well, too."

"I'm glad to hear it, my ladies," Blackwall remarked from the bed.

Malika peered around Josephine to see him sitting up on the bed, smiling and sleep-tousled. She always liked seeing him like that. Josephine spoke before Malika could find her voice: "Good morning, Blackwall. I brought breakfast."

"No more trail rations," Malika added with a grin. They'd both grown heartily sick of them.

Clearing his throat, Blackwall nodded and got up from the bed. He found his trousers and put them on. When he started to walk towards the desk, his left knee buckled and he grabbed the bedpost to keep from falling. "Maker's balls."

"Are you all right?" Josephine asked as they hurried to his sides.

Malika and Josephine each slipped an arm around his waist. "Is your bad knee acting up?"

"Yeah, I think I slept on it wrong." He put his arms around them so they could help him over to the desk.

He didn't protest when they guided him to the chair and helped him sit down. "Is there anything else we can do for you?"

"Are you sure you weren't hurt at Adamant?" Malika asked as Josephine found the footstool and positioned it for Blackwall to prop his leg up.

He shook his head while Malika moved her stool and Josephine brought over an extra chair, the two of them sitting on either side of him. "No, it didn't start bothering me until this morning."

"Please go see the healers once you've finished eating," Josephine requested, resting her hand on his arm.

Nodding, Malika rested a hand on his other arm. "Yes, please, Blackwall. I hate to think that your knee acted up because you slept wrong."

"Who am I to refuse you ladies?" Blackwall glanced between them with a warm, fond smile. "And don't feel responsible, Mal. It's been giving me trouble ever since I hurt it in the first place. It just chose to flare up today."

Smiling brightly, Josephine leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Blackwall."

"Yes, thank you." Malika stretched up to kiss his other cheek.

Red crawled up Blackwall's cheeks from under his beard even as he returned their kisses. "Yes, um, of course, my ladies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found it annoying that the Nightmare didn't taunt the Inquisitor, so I came up with something that I thought fit what Malika was trying to do.


	10. Well, Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things to do as the Inquisition tries to figure out their next move against Corypheus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some things I wanted to include, but they just didn't fit the flow of the story.

After a lovely breakfast with Malika and Blackwall, Josephine watched with some regret as he got dressed. "Have a good day, my ladies."

"Make sure you stop by the healers," Malika told him, hugging him.

Josephine added herself to the hug, breathing in his scent again. "Yes, don't forget."

"I will." He returned their hug firmly and kissed each of them. "Until later."

With that, he pulled back from the hug and headed downstairs, holding firmly to the banister. Alone with Josephine, Malika turned and wrapped both arms around her. "I can't believe I wouldn't let go of his gambeson."

"It's all right, love." Josephine kissed the top of her head. "He didn't exactly mind."

Malika peered up at Josephine curiously. "You're not jealous that I seemed to want him to hold me instead of you?"

"Not at all." Smiling fondly, Josephine kissed Malika's forehead. "He seemed to need to hold you as much you needed to be held."

Her love sighed softly. "The battle at Adamant was bad enough, but then going into the Fade..." She stopped, shuddering.

Josephine gently rubbed Malika's back, guiding her over to the sofa. "I saw the reports Leliana's agents sent and Blackwall wrote even if you didn't. Was it that bad?"

"Depends on who you ask, I suppose." Malika shivered, her grip tightening.

"I'm asking _you_ ," Josephine chided with a small smile, helping her sit on the sofa.

Malika remained silent for several long moments, curling up in Josephine's lap. Eventually, she sighed. "It was horrible, Josie. I'm the reason we went into the Fade in the first place." She shifted so she could free her arm and stare down at the mark on her hand. So far from any rifts, it was barely more than a line of green light across her palm. "Of course, the other option would have killed us outright."

"I'm glad for anything that keeps you and Blackwall alive," Josephine told Malika, her grip tightening around the dwarf at the thought of losing them entirely.

Malika rubbed Josephine's arm. "The trip through the Fade was... unnerving. I don't know how Solas can spend so much time in it."

"He dreams, love. He doesn't physically enter the Fade." Josephine pressed a kiss to the top of Malika's head, making a brief face at the smell of sweat and horse that lingered under her usual scent of stone and metal.

"True." Malika sighed and rested her head on Josephine's shoulder. "We had to fight, of course, not only demons, but also manifestations of our worst fears. Most of them were spiders." They both shuddered. "At the end, a very large one got between me, Maria, and Loghain and the rift that would take us out of the Fade. Both Maria and Loghain insisted on being the one to fight the spider so I and the other could make our escape."

Malika began to shake and Josephine rubbed her back again, realizing that her love had kept one crucial fact to herself. Softly, she asked, "You decided who stayed behind, didn't you?"

The dwarf nodded, wrapping her arms around Josephine once more, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I d-didn't want to choose. Maria and Loghain both still have living family, b-but I couldn't t-take Varric's friend from him."

"Cry, my love. It will do you good." Josephine kissed the top of Malika's head once more.

As if Josephine's permission was all she needed, Malika burst into tears, muffling her sobs in Josephine's shoulder. For her part, Josephine simply rubbed Malika's back soothingly. It would take time for Malika to make her peace with this decision, as with all her previous decisions. No one could make them for her, but Josephine could at least be there for her. As she held the Inquisitor, her glance landed on the lap desk waiting on the couch, still piled with her work. _I'll finish it later, when Mal doesn't need me._

*

"I'm guessing your knee is feeling better?" Malika asked Blackwall when she found him chopping wood by the stable after returning from a trip to Valence with Leliana. Neither woman had said what it was about, but Leliana seemed to be at peace in a way that he hadn't seen before.

He nodded, picking up a log and putting it into place. "Yes. I just strained it a little." As she leaned against the post for the well, he told her what had been on his mind while they'd travelled back to Skyhold, "Someone I knew once described Adamant to me. 'Adamant is, and always will be, the Order,' he said. 'A guardian on the edge of the abyss, the lone soul that stares into oblivion and doesn't waver.' That's what Warden-Commander Clarel tried to be." He paused and glanced at Malika, who'd been listening quietly, blue eyes focused on him. "What they all tried to be." He resumed chopping wood. "None of the Wardens we saw wavered. They gave their lives--willingly. They died for _us_ , and Corypheus twisted their sacrifice to make it his own!"

"And that's why he has to die," she replied, her voice quiet yet firm.

Blackwall chuckled humorlessly, walking over to lean against the well, too. "You'll get no argument from me. There's no one to blame but Corypheus. Even Clarel's intentions were righteous. Her desire to protect was so great, it led her astray." He shook his head, the similarities between the Wardens and his own men far too obvious to him. "It's not right... to want to do good, to _be_ good, and have that turned against you."

"They should have had your resolve, Blackwall," Malika told him, straightening up and reaching up to take his hand in hers. "You've never faltered. You never will."

Her faith in him hurt him even as it heartened him. "Before the Inquisition, before you and Josie, I had the Wardens, the vow I made to them." Not the usual vow, but close enough, in his opinion. "Before that vow, I had nothing, _was_ nothing. It's not the armor or the trappings of the Order. It's not the...Joining." It felt good to finally articulate what had kept him going all this time, even before meeting Malika and the others. "At the heart of it, all a Warden is, is a promise. To protect others... even at the cost of your own life."

"I won't lose you again, Blackwall," She stepped even closer, hugging him tight.

He returned her hug with a chuckle. "I don't _intend_ to die, but it's a possibility."

"Putting that aside, one of Varric's contacts has a lead on a potential source of red lyrium," Malika told him. "Would you like to come with us to take care of it?"

Blackwall nodded, bending to kiss the top of her head. "Of course, my lady."

"We leave the day after tomorrow, then."

*

"Get him killed and I'll feed you your own eyeballs, Inquisitor," Bianca told Malika once Varric, Blackwall, and Dorian had headed back towards the exit.

Scowling, Malika moved so she was right in Bianca's face, blue eyes boring into blue. "You have no right to threaten me."

"No _right_?" Bianca snarled, not backing away. "We've known each other--"

Giving a derisive snort, Malika interrupted her, "You're the reason we have to deal with all the fucking red lyrium in the first place. If not for you, Shitface wouldn't have been able to corrupt the templars into red templar shitheads."

"I didn't _know_ any of this would happen when I started studying the red lyrium," the other dwarf shot back, still angry. "I wanted to know about it and, after I heard what it did to Bartrand, I wanted to figure out if there was a way to help him."

That gave Malika pause, her anger with Bianca fading. "Still, how long did it take you to contact Varric about this?"

"I _knew_ it was bad, yeah, but I didn't know _how_ bad until I got Varric's letter," Bianca retorted, scowling as well. "Which, by the way, was the first time I heard from him in five fucking years."

Sighing gustily, Malika stepped back. "I get it. I didn't-- He's been--"

"He makes it easy to like him." Her defensive posture relaxed now that Malika had stepped back.

Giggling a little, she nodded and started towards where the others waited. "Yes, he does."

"I meant it, though. Keep him safe." Bianca reminded Malika, falling into step with her.

She nodded, dead serious. "He's one of my people, Davri. I don't want to lose any of them."

"Good." Bianca nodded back, glancing at the three men waiting for them. "They care for you, you know."

Malika smiled fondly, looking at Blackwall for a moment, and then at Dorian and Varric. They were among her closest friends in the Inquisition. Voice hoarse with emotion, she simply whispered, "I know."

"C'mon, Blue, we all want to get out of here," Varric called with forced cheer.

Next to her, Bianca called back, "Keep your pants on, Varric, we're coming."

"We just had things to discuss," Malika added, breaking into a jog.

When they reached the three men, Blackwall gently gripped her shoulder, bending to ask quietly, "Everything all right, my lady?"

"It's all good, Blackwall," Malika assured him, touched by his concern. "Let's go."

He squeezed her shoulder lightly before letting go. "Yes, my lady."

*

"I found her, Ruffles!" Varric announced his return with Malika in tow. "Deal her in!"

Smiling warmly at her lover, Josephine mused, "I do hope I recall the rules. It's been ages since I've played a game of Wicked Grace."

"Grab a seat," Varric told Malika as he took the chair between Cullen and Dorian, leaving the one next to Josephine free. "We're ready to start."

As Josephine collected the cards, Iron Bull demanded, "Are we playing cards or what?"

"Are three drakes better than a pair of swords?" Cassandra wondered, sliding her cards back to Josephine. "Ugh, I can never remember."

While Josephine shuffled the cards, Varric patiently reminded Cassandra, "Seeker, remember how I said, 'Don't show anyone your hand'? That rule includes announcing it to the table."

"There's a crown on his head, but a sword, too," Cole observed as Josephine dealt cards to everyone at the table. "His head didn't want either."

Grinning, Varric gently told him, "Don't talk to the face cards, Kid."

"You seem to have enough people," Cullen remarked, starting to stand up. "I have a thousand things to do."

Brown eyes bright with mischief, Dorian pointed out, "Losing money can be both relaxing and habit forming. Give it a try."

"Curly, if any man in history ever needed a hobby, it's you," Varric informed their commander with a chuckle.

As everyone examined their cards, Josephine began the game. Having played plenty of private games with Malika and Blackwall, she doubted either of her lovers would be fooled by her act, but the others might. "Dealer starts. Ooh... I... believe... I'll start at... three coppers! Do you think that's too daring? Maybe I'll make it one... No! Boldness! Three it is!"

"Seriously?" Iron Bull gave her an incredulous look and she belatedly remembered his Ben-Hassrath training. "Who starts at three coppers? Silver, or go home."

Chuckling, Blackwall nodded and tossed his bet into the middle of the table with the others. "Sounds good. I'm in."

"Bolder the better, right?" Dorian tossed his bet onto the table as well. "I'm in."

Varric added his money to the growing pile. "Me, too." He looked at Malika with a hopeful smile. "Well? Are you in?"

"Of course." Malika added her money to the pile. "Deal me in, Josie."

Smiling brightly, Josephine told her, "Oh, wonderful! I'm glad you're joining us!"

"Wouldn't miss it," Malika assured them with a grin.

They settled in to play and swap stories, drinking and snacking as the evening wound on. After a few drinks, Cullen relaxed enough to share a story from his early days as a Templar, before the Blight. "...the poor recruit ran out into the dining hall in nothing but his knickers. And this... profound silence fell over the hall as seventy mages and thirty templars all turned to stare at once. Then a slow round of applause began. And spread until every soul was on their feet. A standing ovation."

"What did he do?" Josephine asked with a giggle, remembering a few rather embarrassing escapades of her own.

Grinning, Cullen finished his story: "Saluted. Turned on his heel. And marched out like he was in full armor."

"He did not!" Cassandra exclaimed breathlessly while Blackwall laughed heartily.

Dorian nodded admiringly. "Good man!"

"You're shitting us!" Iron Bull exclaimed between bursts of laughter.

Varric interjected with a regretful smile, "That's how you know it's true. I could never put that in a book. Too unlikely."

Josephine had to agree with him there. Some things, no matter how true they were, just wouldn't be believable in a book like Varric's _Tale of a Champion_. It felt good to relax and simply play cards with everyone. Even if Malika did end up winning the last pot, including Cullen's clothes.

*

"You're brooding." Malika's remark drew Blackwall out of his thoughts about the days to come and his plans.

Looking up, he found both his ladies standing beside the couch, watching him with obvious worry. Frowning, he told them, "I am not."

"We like brooding, Blackwall," Josephine assured him with a smile as they sat down beside him, taking turns kissing him.

Taking his hand, Malika quietly asked, "Is something on your mind?"

"I was thinking about when we went to the ruin on the Storm Coast," he explained, squeezing her hand lightly. "When we found the badge."

Josephine leaned forward to pick it up from the table in front of the couch where he'd set it. "Do you mean this badge?"

"Yes, his Warden-Constable badge," Malika confirmed with a nod.

Nodding as well, Blackwall continued his explanation, "Everything seemed clear then, like I could do anything with you two beside me." He sighed deeply. "'Anything.' That's a hard word, you know? Means a lot."

" _You_ mean a lot," Josephine told him, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

Malika stretched up kiss his other cheek. "Let's go to bed."

"I'm not worthy of either of you," Blackwall told them, standing up and letting his lovers take his hands to lead him over to the bed. "There's no future for us with me as a Warden."

"We're here for you," Josephine told him firmly, beginning to untie his gambeson.

Malika nodded, working on the lower half of his gambeson. "No matter what comes."

"Then for now, let there be nothing else," he replied, letting them slip his gambeson off. Once his hands were free, he cupped their cheeks.

Smiling, Josephine turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand. "No one else."

"Just the three of us." Malika did the same to his other palm.

With that, he drew them into a kiss, determined to make this last night with them the best he possibly could for all of them. If all went as planned, he'd be gone long before they woke up and they would take comfort in each other. Before passion carried them away, he told them in a gruff, gravelly voice, "I love you both, so much."

*

"Blackwall?" Josephine's voice disturbed Malika, but she only snuggled closer to her lover. She grumbled when delicate hands shook her. "Mal, wake up."

Still grumbling, she reluctantly scrubbed her eyes with one hand and asked, "What is it, Josie?"

"Blackwall is gone," Josephine told her, sounding worried.

That woke Malika up and she sat up to see that they were, indeed, the only two in the bed. Ever since the three of them became lovers, Blackwall rarely got up before Josephine or Malika. _They_ usually left _him_ sleeping peacefully. Looking around, she noticed something on the table that hadn't been there when they'd gone to bed. Slipping from the bed, she padded over to see that the favor Josephine had embroidered for him lay on the table beside the Warden-Constable badge, a note pinned to it. She looked up when Josephine joined her, draping her robe over her shoulders. "He left us this."

_My ladies,_

_There is little I can say that will ease this pain. Just know that while it hurt to leave, it would've hurt more if I stayed._

_I am deeply sorry.  
Blackwall_

"He seemed troubled last night," Josephine mused, taking the favor and holding it close to her heart. "I should've seen this coming."

Malika turned and hugged Josephine tight. "We should have Leliana's people look for him. Hopefully, he hasn't gotten far."

"Hopefully." They held each other for several moments before parting to get dressed so they could speak with Leliana.

It took almost two hours, but she eventually informed them, "Blackwall is gone."

"Why?" Malika asked, holding tight to Josephine's hand.

Josephine hugged Malika. "Did your people find anything that might suggest a reason?"

"I had them search his quarters," Leliana replied, looking sympathetic. "There wasn't much to find there except this." She offered a piece of paper that Malika took with trembling fingers. "I don't know why he would find this matter of interest, but it's somewhere to start at least."

Shaking a little, Malika read the report aloud: "Lieutenant Cyril Mornay, one of the soldiers responsible for the Callier Massacre of 9:37, was captured in Lydes. Like the others who were arrested for their involvement, Mornay insists that he did not know who he was assassinating, and that he was just following the orders of his captain. This captain, Thom Rainier, is still at large. Mornay is to be executed within the week in Val Royeaux."

"An execution? For something that happened five years ago?" Josephine asked, sounding confused and worried.

Leliana nodded. "Yes. I already have my people looking into this massacre to find out what happened and why."

"In the meantime, Josie and I are going to Val Royeaux to attend the execution," Malika told her with a determined nod. "Perhaps we'll find him there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit's about to hit the fan. If you've played the game, you know what's coming. If you haven't, why are you reading this? *wink*
> 
> I wasn't sure about including the scene with Bianca, but Malika insisted.


	11. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackwall has revealed that he's actually Thom Rainier. Will Josephine and Malika ever forgive him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter is directly from the previous fic. It's a significant turning point for these three.

Josephine followed Malika into the Val Royeaux prison, holding her hand tightly as much for her own comfort as Malika's. She was still reeling from the revelation that Warden Blackwall-- their _lover_ , wasn't Blackwall after all, but a wanted criminal. Malika came to a stop, staring at one of the cells. Following her gaze, Josephine could see Rainier sitting on the wooden shelf that served as a bed. He sat with his shoulders slumped, staring down at the ground. After a long moment of silence, he spoke, "I didn't take Blackwall's life. I traded his death." Malika moved closer to the cell, but Josephine remained where she was, wrapping her arms around her waist. "He wanted me for the Wardens, but there was an ambush. Darkspawn. He was killed. I took his name to stop the world from losing a good man." He finally looked up at Malika, and then past her to Josephine. "But a good man, the man _he_ was wouldn't have let another die in his place."

"In that Redcliffe I visited with Dorian, you said there was so much you wanted to tell me." Josephine moved closer, resting a hand on Malika's shoulder. "I suppose this is what your other self meant."

Rainier shrugged. "Suppose so." He gazed at them almost hungrily, as if he didn't expect to see them again. "I never meant to lie to you, either of you, and when I did, I couldn't take it back. You weren't supposed to find me. You were just supposed to think I was gone. I didn't want you to see me like this."

"Did you _really_ think we wouldn't look for you?" Josephine demanded, hurt that he would think so little of their love for him.

Malika slammed her hands onto the bars, snapping out her words, "You're _ours_ , whether you're Warden Blackwall or Thom Rainier. Did you _really_ think we would let you go so easily?" Her anger faded, replaced by sadness. "Especially _you_."

"You have each other," Thom reminded them, looking back and forth between them.

Both Josephine and Malika shook their heads sharply. "It's not the same. Thom." The name sounded strange on her tongue. "Like Mal said, you are _ours_."

"Don't you understand?" Thom finally stood up, approaching the bars so mere centimeters separated them. "I gave the order to kill Lord Callier, his entourage, and I lied to my men about what they were doing! When it came to light, I _ran_." His eyes glittered with anger and self-loathing. "Those men, _my_ men, paid for my treason while I was pretending to be a better man." He bowed his head, slowly sinking to his knees. " _This_ is what I am! A murderer, a traitor... a monster. Wouldn't _you_ be happier thinking I was a noble man, a Grey Warden, instead of _this_?" He rested his forehead against the bars, defeated. "I would've saved you both the pain of learning that all you knew about me was a lie. That you loved a lie."

After a short silence, Malika crouched down to tell him quietly, "There's truth to what we have." He flinched when she covered his hand with hers on the bar. "I lost you once before and I _refuse_ to lose you again, Thom Rainier."

"You are a good man, Thom," Josephine added, bending to cover both of their hands with hers. "We're not giving you up."

He looked up in surprise, grey eyes wide. After a few moments, he must have realized what they meant and said, "I-- what-- you _can't_."

"You're still _ours_." That said, Malika leaned forward and kissed him through the bars, hard and hungry.

When she finished, she moved so Josephine could do the same. Then they turned and stalked up the stairs. Cullen waited for them with Leliana's report. After a brief discussion, Malika looked up at Josephine. "Josie?"

"He's ours, Mal," she reminded her lover.

Malika nodded. "Do what you can to arrange for him to be transferred to the Inquisition."

"With your permission, Inquisitor, I'd like to station a few of our soldiers here to ensure no one tries to take matters into their own hands," Cullen requested, his expression sympathetic as he looked at them.

Josephine winced at the thought and nodded. "Callier's death caused quite an uproar and you saw the crowd's reaction when Thom revealed the truth."

"Yes, station as many soldiers as necessary," Malika told Cullen.

Cullen saluted briskly. "Yes, Inquisitor."

"Come, Mal." Josephine held tight to Malika's hand as she led her from the prison to the inn that had become their usual choice in Val Royeaux. Once in their rooms, she led Malika to the couch and sat down, letting the dwarf curl up in her lap.

Malika tucked her head under Josephine's chin, playing with Josephine's chain of office. Tucked under her blouse, she wore the locket Malika had made for her. "I didn't think it was possible to hate yourself that much."

"No wonder he's always considered himself unworthy of either of us." Josephine murmured, kissing Malika's forehead.

Her lover sighed. "And didn't want us to find his sister. If he even _has_ a sister."

"What do we do about him, my love?" Josephine asked, aware that this would be painful regardless of _when_ she brought it up. "I know, have him released to the Inquisition. What about after that? Assuming I'm successful, will you judge him?"

Malika pressed her face into Josephine's neck. "Yes. Whatever his reasons for killing Callier and his family, he repented of it long ago and he's done so _much_ for the Inquisition."

"That's not _quite_ what I meant by my question." Josephine rubbed her back gently. "What about _us_ , my love? Will we welcome him back into our bed?"

The dwarf shook in her arms, her voice a hoarse whisper, "I... don't know. I still love him. I don't think I can _stop_ loving him, but I don't know if I can trust him."

"I don't know, either," Josephine admitted, blinking back the tears that stung her eyes. "I-- I think we should give him a chance to earn our trust again at least. We've been through too much together to let this come between us."

Malika nodded, clinging tightly to Josephine. "I agree. We'll give him a second chance."

"Very well. I will do my utmost to have him released to us," Josephine assured her, voice shaking a little. "You have my word."

Her love shifted back and stretched up so she could kiss Josephine. "Thank you, Josie."

"You're welcome, Mal." Josephine kissed her back, sweet and soft.

They just sat and held each other for a long time.

*

"For judgment this day," Josephine began, her voice shaking just a little. Thom hadn't seen either her or Malika since the day he saved Mornay from execution. Both were dressed in their finest clothes, not a hair out of place. It made Thom's heart ache to see them so remote and cold towards him. He'd brought it on himself, though. He had no one else to blame for it. "I must present Captain Thom Ranier, formerly known to us as Warden Blackwall. His crimes… well, you are aware of his crimes." He was absurdly grateful that Josephine didn't repeat the account of his crimes. He didn't want to hear her speak of them in her lovely voice. "It was no small expense to bring him here, but the decision of what to do with him is now yours."

He barely dared to look up at Malika once he stood before the throne. She perched on it in her finest clothes, and her face-- To anyone who didn't know her well, they'd have seen calm composure, learned from Josephine and Vivienne no doubt. Thom, however, saw the slight tremor of tension in her hands as they rested on the arms of the throne, noticed that her jaw was just a little tight. She didn't want to do this, but he'd given her no other options. He knew his fate wasn't death. He wouldn't be here if it was. After a short silence, Malika said, "I didn't think this would be easy, but it's harder than I thought."

"Another thing to regret." He stared down at the floor, because if he looked anywhere else, he saw either the rest of the inner circle, or Josephine, or a few Orlesian soldiers who only wanted him dead. "What did you have to do to release me?"

Malika answered the question with a shrug of her shoulders. "Josephine called in a few favors. There are enough people out there who owe the Inquisition."

"And what happens to the reputation Lady Josephine has so carefully cultivated?" Thom wondered aloud. "The world will learn how you've used your influence. They'll know the Inquisition is corrupt."

She gave him a hard look, blue eyes flashing with anger. "I wish there'd been another way, but my options were limited."

"You could have left me there!" he practically shouted. He'd done everything he could to protect the Inquisition's reputation, to avoid undoing all of Josephine's hard work, and it'd all been for nothing. "I accepted my punishment. I was ready for all this to end. Why would you stop it? What becomes of me now?"

Malika's answer was simple and surprising: "You have your freedom."

"It cannot be as simple as that." He shook his head, unable to believe that she would set him free after all he'd put both her and Josephine through.

Malika shook her head, her voice steady, but her hands tightening just a little more on the arms of the throne. "It isn't. You're free to atone as the man you are. Not the traitor you thought you were or the Warden you pretended to be."

"The man I am? I barely know him. But he-- I have a lot to make up for." Thom could hardly imagine a life where he could make decisions solely based on whether he wanted to do them and not because he thought he should. He closed eyes and bowed his head for a moment, recalling the one decision he'd made that had been impulsive and not preceded by 'Blackwall would do this, so I should' in the last five years. That decided, he looked back up at Malika. "If my future is mine, then I pledge it to the Inquisition. My sword is yours."

A very small smile tilted up the corners of Malika's mouth. "Then take your post, Thom Rainier." 

"Thank you, Inquisitor." Thom bit back his usual form of endearment. They had more to discuss, but not here in front of everyone.

As one of the guards cut the rope around his wrists, Malika stood up from the throne. When he stood up straight, they were eye-to-eye for once and hers searched his for a long moment before she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. He could see Josephine waiting nearby, smiling faintly. Closing his eyes, he hugged Malika back, breathing in the scent of stone and metal that was uniquely her. "Mal--"

"I lost you once before," she whispered harshly in his ear. "I refuse to lose you again, whatever your name is. You're mine."

He swallowed hard at the emotion in her voice. Maker, he didn't deserve any of this. "I will do everything I can to prove myself worthy of the faith you have in me."

"You did that a long time ago," Malika whispered, easing back and cupping his face between her small, strong hands, blue eyes boring into gray. "You've just been too busy punishing yourself to see it."

Thom slowly nodded, blinking back the sting of tears. Josephine joined them then and Malika stepped back. Much to his surprise, Josephine hugged him tightly. As he hugged her back, she whispered, "You are mine, Thom. Regardless of your past."

"I-- thank you, Josie." He could feel tears trickling down into his beard, honored that they still cared about him.

Once Josephine stepped back, Malika moved forward to take her hand. Keeping her voice low, she told him, "You've probably guessed as much, but you are barred from my quarters for the present time, Thom. If you wish to speak with either or both of us in private, you must request it ahead of time and we will make arrangements."

"You've broken our trust," Josephine explained in an equally-low voice. "We're giving you a chance to earn it back."

Thom nodded, his heart aching, but he understood very well. He was a lucky bastard to have a second chance. "I thank you both for this second chance. Both at life and earning your trust."

"Good." Both women nodded to him, and then turned to head to the war room.

When the door shut behind them, Sera approached and punched his arm. "That's for upsetting Glowy like you did, Beardy."

"It's good to see you, too, Sera," he told her, absently rubbing his arm. She hadn't hit him hard, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Did they let you bathe at all in prison?" Dorian demanded from his other side, wrinkling his nose. "Or here?"

Thom shrugged. "Not at all in Val Royeaux and just a sponge bath here."

"Right, we're fixing that." Dorian took Thom's arm and started leading him away. "Sera, you're not needed, unless you _want_ to see him naked?"

She wrinkled her nose at the thought and a laugh escaped Thom, soft and rusty. "Ew, no. Come by the tavern later, Broody Beard. I'm not done with you."

"See you later," Thom told her, letting Dorian lead him away.

*

"You wished to see me, Ladies?" Thom asked politely when he entered the private room at the Herald's Rest. Malika and Josephine sat together at one of the tables, nursing drinks as they waited for Thom to arrive.

Sitting up straight, Malika gestured to the chair opposite them. "Yes, we did. Please have a seat."

"We have some things to discuss," Josephine explained as Thom sat down in the chair, clasping his hands in his lap.

Nodding, Thom looked from one to the other, a hint of longing in his eyes. It'd been a week since Malika had judged him and they'd only spent time together when others were around. This had limited what they could talk about. "Yes, of course. What do you wish to talk about?"

"How much of what you've told us have been lies and how much was the truth?" Malika asked, preferring to be direct and forthright. Especially because this question was the one that had been on her mind the most.

Josephine clasped Malika's hand. The lying itself bothered Josephine more than Malika, who'd done her share of fudging the truth as former Carta. Her voice quiet, Josephine explained, "We don't doubt that you truly love us, but what about everything else you've said?"

"Whenever possible, I tried not to lie," Thom explained, his voice regretful. "I really only lied about being Warden Blackwall. I really did win the Melee at the Grand Tourney like I told you once. I _do_ have a younger sister: Rebecca. I lost touch with her when I--" he paused and took a deep breath. "I ran. She's probably married by now."

Malika nodded, relieved. That was what she'd _hoped_ would be his answer. She gently squeezed Josephine's hand. "Do you know what hurt the most about this whole situation?"

"You didn't approach me or Leliana about Mornay," Josephine told him when he shook his head, her distress and anger very obvious. "We could have saved his life without risking yours."

Not surprisingly, Thom shook his head. "And risked the Inquisition's reputation, which you risked anyway for me. No, I couldn't." He paused to take a drink of his ale. "I traded the deaths of my other men for a life on the run. It seemed only right that I trade Mornay's freedom with my own death."

"And we had no say in this matter?" Malika demanded, leaning forward in her chair, thinking of what he'd said at his judgment. "Not just me and Josie, who love you, but everyone else in the Inquisition. Your friends and colleagues. Didn't you feel any loyalty to _them_?"

Wrapping her arm around Malika's shoulders, Josephine continued, "We would have _helped_ , Thom, no questions asked."

"Of course I feel loyal to them-- and you two." Thom rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers. "If he hadn't been captured-- But he was one of mine, once. I couldn't--"

Malika slammed her hand down on the table, startling both humans. "You didn't _have_ to do it yourself, Thom. The Inquisition's reputation means nothing if we can't even use it to keep our people safe."

"Especially the ones we love the most." Josephine moved her hand to rub the base of Malika's neck, where her tension usually gathered when she was angry.

Thom closed his eyes, but not before Malika saw tears glittering in them. "I--"

"Do you _want_ to die, Thom Rainier?" Malika asked, standing up and moving around the table to cup his face in her hands once again. He didn't open his eyes.

Before he could reply, Josephine joined them, tilting his head up so he could look at both of them. When he kept his eyes closed, she requested gently, "Thom, please."

"Not at all, my ladies." He opened his eyes to look at them when he answered Malika's question. "I just wanted the lies and pretending to end."

Malika studied his face carefully and he didn't flinch from her scrutiny. "What do _you_ want out of a relationship with us, Thom Rainier?"

"Don't think about whether you're 'worthy' of us, or the fact that you lied to us," Josephine added, studying him just as intently.

He stared up at them, his eyes wide and surprised. Finally, his voice gravelly with emotion, he told them, "Maker help me, I still want to be with you both. I love you two so much, it _hurt_ to get up and leave for Val Royeaux without you. I've wanted to hear both of you say my name when we make love pretty much from the beginning. More than anything, though, I want to spend the rest of my life with you two, in whatever capacity you choose: husband, lover, friend, court jester. I just want to be part of your lives."

"Court jester, hmm?" Malika asked, amused by the suggestion.

Josephine slipped her free arm around Malika's shoulders. "I prefer those first two ideas, to tell the truth."

"I lied about who I was, but I never lied about what I felt, for either of you." Thom gazed up at them with serious eyes. "No matter what I was or what becomes of me, at this moment, I'm just a man with his heart laid bare." Gently tugging their hands from his face, he clasped them in both of his. "I leave it in your hands."

Malika glanced up at Josephine inquiringly. They had to agree on whether to accept him back into their lives and their bed. After a moment, Josephine looked at Malika and nodded slightly. Nodding back, she looked at Thom, "You were ready to die, but we aren't ready to let you go. Your place is here with us."

"Not as the traitor you thought you were," Josephine echoed what Malika had said during Thom's judgment. "Or as the Warden you pretended to be, but as the man you are."

Shifting his grip on their hands, he brought them up to his lips to press kisses to the backs. "I don't know how to be with you as Thom Rainier."

"We'll figure it out together," Malika told him with a smile, feeling her heartbeat speed up.

Next to her, Josephine's breath hitched before she added, "You said you didn't lie about how you felt. Go with that."

"I love you, my ladies," he said, drawing them closer.

Malika gently freed her hand so she could wrap her arm around his shoulders. "I love you, too, Thom Rainier."

"And I love you, too, Thom," Josephine seconded, sliding her arm around him as well.

They just held each other, enjoying this new tenuous accord. _He still needs to earn our trust, but this is a good start._

*

A few days later, Josephine stood in Skyhold's courtyard, bidding farewell to Malika and Thom once more. They held each other in a tight embrace, each one with an arm around each of the others. Her voice thick with tears over sending her loves off, Josephine told them, " _Please_ be careful, my loves."

"I'm _always_ careful, Josie," Malika countered with a smile on her lips and understanding in her blue eyes.

Thom tightened his arms around them. "I'll make sure she stays safe, my lady Josie."

"Keep _yourself_ safe, too, Thom," Josephine told him sternly. "I want _both_ of you back."

Malika laughed. "We'll keep _each other_ safe, Josie. Don't worry."

"Of course," Thom agreed with a nod.

Reluctantly pulling back from the embrace, Josephine bent to kiss Malika good-bye. As they stood with their foreheads pressed together, she asked, "Should I?"

"If you feel it's the right time for it," Malika whispered back, clearly knowing what Josephine was asking.

Thom looked at her in puzzlement when Josephine stopped in front of him. "My lady?"

"You may have left this behind when you left for Val Royeaux," she told him, pulling out the favor she'd embroidered for him. "But you didn't set aside the love it represents. You should have it back."

Malika smiled reassuringly when Thom looked at her, tapping the favor already tied around her right wrist. "Please accept it back, Thom."

"Of course, my lady." He turned to present his left arm to Josephine so she could tie it there. "Thank you."

When she finished, Josephine turned Thom towards her so she could kiss him, just as she'd kissed Malika. He tensed in surprise for a moment before relaxing and lifting one hand to cup her cheek as he responded with equal parts tenderness, desperation, and devotion. She pressed her forehead to his when they parted to catch their breath. "Thank _you_ , Thom."

"Okay, lovebirds," Malika interjected after giving them a few moments. "I hate to spoil the moment, but we need to get going."

Thom brought Josephine's hand up to kiss the back. Softly, he told her, "I love you, my lady."

"I love you, too, my darling." She returned the gesture.

Reluctantly, he stepped back and turned to help Malika onto her pony. Once she was settled in her saddle, he mounted his own horse. They rode out the gates side-by-side. As Dorian and Varric followed, Josephine heard the dwarf say, "I could never include that kind of shit in a book. No one would find it believable."

"Yes, sometimes truth is stranger than fiction," Dorian agreed just before they passed out of earshot.

Josephine smiled to herself, touching her locket through her blouse. Remembering something, she hurried inside to look through her belongings. She'd set something aside and now was the _perfect_ time to use it once more.

*

Thom fingered the gold cloth on his left arm as they rode back to Skyhold. When he'd laid it down beside the warden-constable's badge, he hadn't expected to have it end up _back_ on his arm. But his lady Josie had proven him wrong, much to his pleasant surprise. Going by the lack of surprise from the others, they'd _expected_ Josephine to return her favor. When they trotted into Skyhold's courtyard, Thom finally felt like he was coming home. He dismounted first and helped Malika dismount in turn, gathering her close for a moment. She smiled up at him before a familiar voice called, "Mal! Thom!"

"Josie!" Smiling warmly, Malika moved past Thom to greet Josephine with a hug and a kiss.

Thom was ready when they parted and gathered Josephine into a warm hug. After only a brief hesitation, he kissed her as well, sweet and soft. "My lady."

"My darling," she replied with a tender smile.

Accepting their saddlebags from the stable hands, Malika and Thom headed up the stairs with Josephine. "Is there anything that--"

"Inquisitor!" Cullen's voice rang across the great hall when they entered.

Malika glanced around as the Commander strode towards them, straightening up as her expression turned serious. "Commander Cullen. What is it?"

"We finally deciphered the smugglers' letters you found in the Emerald Graves," he reported, handing her a stack of parchment.

She accepted the stack once Thom took her saddlebags and shuffled through them. She looked up with a frown. "Sahrnia? Why does that sound familiar?"

"Sahrnia is in Emprise du Lion," Thom informed her as they headed towards the war room, handing their saddlebags to a runner along the way.

Realization and horror spread across Malika's face as his explanation sank in. " _Stone_!"

"My love?" Josephine asked, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

When Malika only shook her head, Thom explained for Josephine and Cullen. "When we arrived at the Western Approach, we found an old mine with a few large red lyrium clusters growing out of the walls." Cullen stalked away towards the window. "The only explanation we found was a note to saying to 'pull up stakes' because the Inquisition was coming."

"And the plan was to relocate to Emprise du Lion," Malika flourished the parchment in her hand.

Josephine quickly took the parchment from her before she could wrinkle it further. Cullen turned from the window to ask, "You think there is a connection?"

"Oh, there _absolutely_ is, Commander," Malika nodded firmly. She looked at Josephine and Thom helplessly. "It's too late to leave today. I'll have to head out tomorrow morning for Emprise du Lion." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, Cassandra, Cole, and Solas for this trip, I think."

Thom stared at her, a little surprised. "My lady?"

"Seekers are immune to red lyrium," she explained, taking his hands in hers. "Cole's... uniqueness will be an immense help and Solas works better with Cole than Dorian or Vivienne."

He nodded reluctantly, accepting her reasoning. "I understand. Thank you for explaining."

"Thank _you_ , Thom." Malika hugged him tight.

He hugged her back, trying not to think of her leaving without him in the morning. Josephine gently interrupted them. "I've sent runners to request their presence, Mal."

"Thanks, Josie." Malika reluctantly released Thom and moved to the war table.

After hugging Josephine, Thom left the war room. As he crossed Josephine's office, Cassandra entered from the great hall. She hesitated when she saw him. Then she squared her shoulders and stalked past him without even acknowledging his presence. Hiding a wince, he continued to his quarters. He may as well unpack his saddlebags.

The following morning, he stood with Josephine as Malika and the others prepared to depart. She hugged and kissed the ambassador, and then turned to Thom. The hug he expected. The kiss, though, was a surprise. It was every bit as desperate and longing as he'd have expected. "Stay safe, my lady."

"I'll do my best." She closed her eyes for a moment. "I hate this part."

"The sooner you go, the sooner you'll finish and return to us." Thom gently urged her towards her pony, kneeling so she could use his knee to mount up.

Malika gathered Lya's reins in her hands and gazed down at him. He jumped slightly when he felt Josephine slip her hand into his. Thom glanced at her with a smile and a gentle squeeze of her hand. He looked back at Malika as Josephine told her, "Travel safely, my love, and return as soon as you can."

"I will, my loves." Nodding to them both, Malika clicked her tongue and Lya started forward. Solas and Cole followed closely.

Cassandra reined in her horse next to Thom and Josephine. Looking straight ahead, she told them, "I will protect the Inquisitor to the best of my abilities."

"Thank you, Cassandra." "Thank you."

Barely nodding, she set off after Malika and the others.

*

Dorian met them when they returned from Emprise du Lion. He barely let Malika dismount before he gathered her into a tight hug. She clung to him, clutching at his robe. " _Worse_ than what we saw in the future Redcliffe."

"Is that even _possible_?" Dorian asked, stroking her hair.

She nodded, pulling back from him at the sound of a familiar and welcome voice: "My lady Mal."

" _Thom_." She disentangled herself from Dorian and flung herself at Thom.

He held her close, his voice rumbling in his chest. "I'm sorry I wasn't with you."

Another pair of arms encircled them both. "He's been kicking himself for not insisting on going with you ever since your first report on the quarry."

"I swore to protect you." He looked down at her seriously. "I can't do that if I stay here while you go off to fight."

Rolling her eyes, Malika poked him in the side. "You know my reasons. If you're going to blame anyone, blame me."

"It doesn't matter who's to blame," Josephine interjected. "Though, it _should_ be Corypheus if we blame anyone at all."

Thom chuckled and kissed Josephine, quick and fond. "You make a good point, my lady."

"Yes, she does." Malika smiled up at Josephine, amused by the startled expression on her face before a fond smile replaced it.

Leaning down to kiss Malika in greeting, Josephine told her, "We have matters to discuss, but not here."

"Yes, love." Malika kissed Josephine again before she could straighten up. "Let's go inside, hmm?"

Thom nodded and held up a hand. "First things first." He bent and kissed Malika in greeting as well. "I missed you, my lady."

"I missed you, too, Thom," she whispered back, surprised and flustered by his move. _Oh, yes, we **definitely** need to talk._

They headed inside together, Malika hardly able to keep her hands to herself. The moment the door to her quarters closed behind them, she turned and reached for her lovers, not caring which of them she kissed first. It happened that Thom reacted first, pulling her into a hungry kiss. She held tight to his gambeson, pressing as close to him as she could. "The stairs are hardly the best place for this, you two."

"Yes, you're right, my lady." Thom ended the kiss, to a whine of dismay from Malika. She didn't want it to end.

Josephine nudged them up the stairs, looking amused. The moment she reached the top, Malika turned and pulled Josephine into a kiss. "Please..."

"I don't think she's going to be good for anything until we do something," Thom remarked conversationally to no one because Josephine was too busy kissing Malika.

When they paused to breathe, Malika began kissing along Josephine's neck, tugging at buttons and knots. "Mal..."

"Yes, Josie." Malika was too eager to bother reaching the bed at the moment.

Thom chuckled and began to help. Malika smiled and kissed his cheek. _We'll talk **after**._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of _course_ they forgave him!


	12. Routine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can stopping Corypheus' forces ever be routine?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter is completely new.

"Hello?" Thom's voice floated up the stairs to Josephine and Malika, who'd been sitting quietly, finishing up the day's work.

Exchanging a smile with Malika, Josephine called back, "Come on up, Thom."

"We were waiting for you to get indecent," Malika added with a mischievous smile, tucking her work into her lap desk.

Chuckling, Thom reached the top of the stairs as Malika set the lap desk aside. "I highly doubt that, but I'll take the compliment."

"As you should." Josephine walked over to greet him with a hug and a soft kiss. "In all seriousness, we were just finishing our work."

Malika smiled when they reached the couch, hugging Thom and kissing him, lingering a little over it. "I have something for you."

"Do you now?" Thom sat down beside Malika on the couch.

Josephine smiled warmly as she sat down next to Thom. She knew what Malika had for him and couldn't wait to see his reaction. She took his hand and squeezed it gently. "You're going to like it, I'm sure."

"Shh, Josie, don't give the surprise away," Malika scolded, reaching into her lap desk for the small box.

Thom drew in a breath when he saw it. Clearly, he recognized it. "Mal..."

"Just open it, Thom," Josephine urged him, wanting to see his reaction.

He laughed and carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a locket very similar to the one Malika had given to Josephine. Also made of silverite with the Cadash crest engraved on one side, unlike Josephine's, this one had a griffon engraved on the other side with his initials across it. Leaning against his side, Malika explained, "Right, as I told you, I had some trouble making this. By the time it _was_ ready, well..."

"The truth had come out," Thom finished when Malika trailed off. "This is amazing detail, Mal."

Josephine smiled, touching her own locket. "And, of course, inside..."

"Are locks of mine and Josie's hair," Malika finished as Thom opened the locket to find their hair twined together.

Closing it, Thom gathered Malika into a tight hug, barely choking out, "Thank you."

"Our love was never in doubt, Thom," Josephine reminded him, pressing against his back.

Malika smiled up at him. "This means you can come and go from my quarters as you please now. They're your quarters again."

"Maker's balls, you're going to make me cry." He wiped at his eyes, and then held out the locket to her. "Please, put it on for me."

Josephine chuckled and helped Malika by pulling Thom's hair out of the way. "There you go."

"I'm kind of glad I didn't have this ready along with Josie's now." Malika adjusted the locket so it nestled just below the hollow of his throat.

He reached up and touched it, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. "I _had_ wondered. I worried that you'd somehow figured out the truth."

"Not at all." Josephine kissed his cheek.

Malika, having knelt on the couch to make it easier to put the locket on Thom, took advantage of her position to kiss him again, warm and loving. "It'd been a while since I made jewelry and I just happened to finish Josie's first."

"Well, thank you very much, my lady Mal." Smiling, Thom pulled her into his lap for a proper kiss, which she returned eagerly, winding her arms around his neck.

Smiling, Josephine pressed close to begin teasing them with kisses to their necks. She'd rather expected the evening to go this way. They were leaving for the Hissing Wastes tomorrow. Who knew when they'd get to indulge themselves like this again?

*

Malika picked up the rune in the back of the final tomb, examining it thoughtfully. "I've never seen a rune like this before. Is this what the Venatori were after?"

"Men have died in the desert for worse things," Thom replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

Tucking the rune into her pack, Malika asked, "But not you?"

"Wilfred," he told her as they started for the exit. "Damn fool survived a flood, a bout of madness, ghasts, even a wyvern that stalked us halfway out of that wasteland..." He stopped and shook his head. "A day out from civilization, he did the stupidest thing you can do in a desert."

Tilting her head curiously, she inquired, "What's that?"

"Tried to steal someone's water while he was sleeping." Thom grimaced at the memory of what had happened next. He didn't feel guilty for the man's fate, just sorry for the man. "Maker help us, we left the idiot bastard's bones where they lay."

Malika shook her head in disbelief. "He couldn't have lasted one more day?"

"Apparently not." He eyed the remains of the dragon at the bottom of the valley, his injuries throbbing at the reminder of their fight with it. "Did you _plan_ to fight another dragon, my lady?"

Malika shook her head as Iron Bull appeared from around the corner, looking far too cheerful. "No, but maybe now Bull will stop pouting at me over missing the dragons in Emprise."

" _Three_ dragons, Boss," the qunari reminded her with a mock scowl as he joined them. "Three that I didn't get to help kill. Utter catastrophe."

Staff in hand and adjusting his clothes, Dorian appeared from around the same corner. "Did you find whatever was in that tomb, Mal?"

"A rune," she explained, holding it up for them to see.

While Dorian inspected it, Bull ducked into the tomb for a moment. "Is this all that was here?"

"A few other trinkets," Malika replied with a shrug. She looked up when the Iron Bull emerged from the tomb, looking thoughtful. "Earlier you said something was 'missing' from these tombs."

He nodded, tracking the rune as Dorian returned it to Malika, who tucked it into her pack. "Pits. Arrow traps. Anything to stop us besides a door." He grunted, rubbing idly at his neck. "They thought the guy they buried here was so important, no one would ever think of robbing him."

"That doesn't make sense," Thom frowned, and glanced at Malika. "Is that typical of dwarves?"

She shrugged. "Surface dwarves? Nope. Dwarves like these ones were? Not a damn clue."

"Exactly!" Iron Bull nodded enthusiastically. "It's downright Qunari."

Giving a disdainful sniff, Dorian announced, "I don't know about the rest of you, but _I_ am tired of trudging around in all this sand and wind. Are we done, Mal?"

"I think so," she told him with a nod. "Let's go."

Thom stayed by Malika's side as they trudged through the sand behind Dorian and the Iron Bull. "Should we tell them that stone amplifies sound?"

"Bull knows, I'm sure," she answered in a low voice, blue eyes bright with amusement.

He shook his head. "I really did _not_ need to hear them earlier."

"Did you feel left out?" Malika asked, eyebrows arched curiously.

Thom shook his head again, more vigorously. " _No._ I don't need sand getting in places it shouldn't, thank you very much."

"That's... a good point." Malika winced. "Let's just get back to Skyhold and Josie."

He nodded this time. "Yes, _please_."

*

"There's a hole in the ground out here," Malika stated once they'd crested a dune, and then wanted to smack herself. They could all _see_ the hole with boards over it.

Behind her, Sera cackled. "Yeah, we can see that for ourselves, Glowy."

"I was surprised." Malika hated that she sounded defensive because she _knew_ Sera didn't mean to be rude.

When she turned towards Sera, the elf looked contrite. "Sorry about that, Glowy."

"No, _I'm_ sorry, Sera. I shouldn't have snapped at you. It _was_ a rather obvious statement, wasn't it?" Malika reached up to catch her friend's hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.

Sera returned the squeeze, grinning. "Yeah, a bit daft."

"The fact that we can all see it indicates that it's not a mirage," Solas reminded them.

Nodding, Malika carefully approached the hole and peered down through the gaps between the boards. "I'm not sure if there's anything down there."

"Careful, my lady," Thom warned her, moving closer and kicking some sand down the hole in the process.

She tilted her head, her attention caught by an odd sound. "No, there _is_ something down there."

"How can you tell?" Sera wondered as Malika knelt by the hole and scooped up a handful of sand to slowly trickle into the hole as she moved her hand across the boards.

Solas waited until she'd finished before offering an observation. "The sand made a different sound to one side of the hole."

"Are you sure it's a good idea to mess about with this, my lady?" Thom asked, dropping to one knee beside her.

Malika looked at him with a sheepish grin. "Probably not, but now I want to know what could be down there."

"Hmm, the wood itself is very old and brittle," he mused, smoothing a gloved hand across the boards. "Not surprisingly, it's been dried out."

She nodded her agreement with the last statement. "Out here in the desert, it's no surprise."

"If you two would move back, I can remove the boards so you can see into the hole," Solas requested patiently, magic already glowing around his long, slender hands.

Nodding, they stood up and backed away from the hole. After a moment, the boards pulled free and floated to rest in the sand next to the hole. They peered down. "A chest, Glowy. You sure it's worth all this?"

"There's a ladder," Malika pointed out, quickly climbing down. She tried the lock and it broke at a single strong tug. "Well, that was anticlimactic." Opening the chest, she found little of value besides some old coins and a sword. "Not much, I'm afraid."

She carefully held up the sheathed sword so someone could grab it. Thom, as it happened. "This sword is in remarkable condition."

"It's been in a chest in a hole in the ground in the middle of the desert," she reminded him, climbing back up the ladder. "Best way to preserve it."

Once she was on solid ground again, Solas replaced the wooden boards over the hole. "What now, Glowy?"

"Drop off the sword, and then try to get into that temple," Malika answered promptly. "Whatever's in there, we don't want the Venatori to have it."

*

_To Ambassador Josephine Montilyet,_

_Thank you so much for your earlier correspondence. I confess it's been difficult to get those in Orlais to take this discovery seriously in light of recent events, but I am positive that scouting the Frostback Basin will yield historic discoveries beneficial to both the academic field and the Inquisition. As a staunch supporter, I am honored to be working in such great company on this historic occasion._

_Yours, most sincerely,_  
Professor Bram Kenric  
University of Orlais 

"What, exactly, has this Professor Kenric found that he thinks will be of use to us, Josephine?" Malika asked after reading his letter.

She consulted her notes, which she'd prepared for just such a question. "He has been searching for the final resting place of the last Inquisitor, Ameridan. He disappeared under mysterious circumstances early in the Divine Age."

"That explains the benefit to both academics and the Inquisition," Malika mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I assume there's something preventing him from continuing his research?"

Josephine nodded, admiring once again her lover's ability to cut right to the heart of a problem. "Indeed. He believes Ameridan's final resting place to be somewhere in the Frostback Basin."

"That particular region has always been home to the Avvar people," Cullen added, tapping the area on the map spread across the war table with his finger. "Specific tribes have varied, but they would make it difficult for a lone scholar like Kenric to conduct his research in peace."

Malika nodded, still looking thoughtful. "If the last Inquisitor has been missing for 800 years, it's only fitting that today's Inquisition help find him. Leliana, have your best scouts accompany Professor Kenric to the area and set up a base camp. I'll join them with Thom, Dorian, and Iron Bull as soon as I can."

"Yes, Inquisitor." Leliana nodded, picking up her notes and sorting through them.

She addressed Cullen next, "You know the sort of area this is, Commander. Choose the soldiers who can best handle the terrain. They'll accompany me there to reinforce the scouts."

"Yes, Inquisitor." He began picking through his own notes as well.

Malika's serious expression shifted into a warm smile as she turned to Josephine. "Write to Professor Kenric and assure him that he has the full support of the Inquisition in this endeavor and I will meet with him to discuss his theories in full detail."

"Yes, Inquisitor." Josephine began drafting a note for the professor. When they'd begun corresponding and he'd explained his current focus, she'd suspected that Malika would find it intriguing and well worth pursuing.

Since joining the Inquisition, she'd become a sort of magpie for anything related to history: " _I know so little about my own history, both as a Cadash and a dwarf. I want to learn all I can about **everyone's** history. That way it's not lost."_

"Is there anything else to discuss?" Leliana asked, drawing Josephine from her thoughts.

When they shook their heads, Malika told them, "All right, get started on your preparations and let's get this expedition underway."

They trooped out of the war room and Malika reached up to catch Josephine's hand. "You thought of me when you began corresponding with Professor Kenric, didn't you?"

"I confess I did, my love," Josephine answered with a sheepish smile.

"I'm lucky to have you and Thom in my life," she replied, kissing the back of Josephine's hand and the palm. Blue eyes glinted with mischief. "You'll have to give us a proper send off the night before we leave."

Chuckling, Josephine bent to kiss Malika, sweet and swift, but with a hint of a promise. "Of course, my love."

*

Thom wasn't quite sure what to make of the island. None of them knew what to expect when they rowed out to it from the mainland, but he certainly didn't expect a flashback to a time many years in the past. "For a moment, I almost felt like I was walking down a street back in Markham. Strange."

"Your mind is being influenced by the spirits here," Dorian explained, gesturing to the wispy figures scattered across the island. "They're drawing sorrow from you like you'd draw water from a well."

He grunted, comforted when Malika slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. "Right. That didn't help."

"I think there's a rift here," she murmured, slipping off her left glove. Sure enough, a faint green glow emanated from her palm.

As they began walking, a disembodied voice seemed to float to them on the sea breeze. "I can't... not without..."

"That's… interesting." They exchanged concerned glances.

As they continued, the voice floated to them again, "Sleep. I need to... I _must_ find you..."

"I could do without all the demons, Boss," Iron Bull informed Malika as they began walking amongst the wispy beings.

When Thom glanced at his compatriot, he was surprised to realize that the big Qunari looked pale, big hands balled into tight fists. As he watched, Dorian rested a hand on Iron Bull's forearm and told him quietly, "Not demons, Amatus. Spirits."

"Like in Old Crestwood," Malika added, leading them towards a set of wooden stairs that had seen a great deal of weathering.

Iron Bull grunted, but didn't say anything else. Thom helped Malika scramble across some rocks as the voice reached their ears again: "Vhenan... I'm... dreaming..."

"That first word was definitely Elvish," Malika remarked, pausing on the stairs with a frown. "There was nothing in the books about elves being part of the previous Inquisition."

Managing a somewhat cheeky smile, Iron Bull said, "You forget who usually writes those books, Boss. At least, the ones that survive."

"The winners, of course." Malika sighed and shook her head. "Come on."

They trudged up the surprisingly-sturdy stairs as the voice came again, clearer than before. "Ameridan... Ameridan, why?"

"Well, we were right to come here for clues about what happened here at least," Dorian offered with somewhat-forced cheer.

When they reached the top of the stairs, the Anchor flared to life like it usually did around rifts. No demons attacked them, though. As they looked around for any sign of the rift that must have activated the Anchor, Thom caught a glint of familiar green light near a wooden hut not far from them. "I think the rift is over there, my lady."

"I think you're right, Thom." Squeezing his arm, Malika led them over to it. As they drew closer, they were surprised to find a dome of rift energy surrounding a skeleton long since picked clean and bleached white by sun and weather. "Whoever this was must be the source of that voice we keep hearing."

Thom crouched to examine the skeleton stretched out amongst the flowers, a bow and scroll case resting beside it. "I can't be sure if this is human or elven. Don't have the training for it."

"Elven," Iron Bull offered after a cursory examination of his own. "It's shorter overall than a human skeleton and the bones are more delicate."

Malika nodded. "Well, shall we see what's inside the rift?"

"This blood... my blood?" As Malika extended her marked hand towards the rift so familiar bright green energy connected them, the voice spoke again, clearer than ever. "No, I can't..."

She yanked her hand back and a spirit coalesced before them instead of demons, speaking, its voice not quite the same as the one they'd been hearing. "Telana slept... _I_ slept. To find him in dreaming... but I... the blood... I'm... _she's_... gone." Thom moved closer to Malika, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Telana wanted to reach Ameridan again, one more time, but she couldn't. I couldn't. I died." He felt Malika's shoulders hitch with a stifled sob and she reached up to cover his hand with hers. He clasped it tightly to reassure her as the spirit continued, "I tried to stay but only pieces came through. You opened the sky for the rest of me."

"You... or she... wanted to reach Ameridan again?" Malika asked, still holding tightly to Thom's hand. "We're also trying to find him."

The spirit's response came more slowly than Thom expected. "Ameridan. Yes. Inquisitor. Beloved. I... she... came with Ameridan to hunt the dragon."

"The dragon?" Malika repeated, voicing their surprise.

The spirit's wispy form seemed to bob up and down for a moment. "Huge... power like none had seen. It came from the mountains with the Avvar. Towns fell, all dead." Thom grimaced at that fact. He vaguely remembered something about that from his history lessons. "One last favor for the Emperor Drakon. Slay the Avvar-dragon, save Orlais."

"This wasn't just a hunt?" Malika queried, leaning forward slightly. "Inquisitor Ameridan was here on orders from Emperor Drakon?"

Another bob. "Yes. A secret. Drawn by the dragon. Telana... I didn't want to, but where Ameridan goes, I go."

"That sounds familiar," Thom murmured, looking fondly down at Malika.

She smiled brightly up at him as the spirit continued. "They fought at the shore. Spirits and magic, cold, so cold. How I found her, how she found us." Involuntarily, Thom glanced towards the water that separated the island from the mainland. "They rested here, then up the river. Metal spires. A way to stop the dragon."

"Stop? Not kill?" Iron Bull wondered, looking more like his old self at the prospect of fighting a dragon again.

As if it hadn't heard him, the spirit continued, "Then Telana returned here alone to wait for him. Forever waiting. Dreaming... then dead."

"We'll find Ameridan," Malika told the spirit firmly. "You don't have to wait here anymore."

Yet another bob from the spirit. "Thank you. It was hard. I... she... went a long time ago. I stayed because she asked. Her things are there. She wanted them found."

"Good-bye." The next moment, the spirit disappeared, though the dome of rift energy remained.

Releasing a long, shuddering breath, Malika knelt to pick up the bow and scroll case Thom had noticed earlier. She cried out and clutched her wrist as the dome collapsed, the Anchor flashing with energy. "My lady, are you all right?"

"I... I think so." She shook her hand, and then rubbed her forehead. "I think that dome was a shield and I know how to create one myself now."

Thom offered her his hand and she let him pull her to her feet and into a tight hug. "That scared me. I thought the Anchor was acting up like people said it did in the early days."

"The Hakkonites found us, Boss." Iron Bull's call distracted them and Thom wondered when he'd left the area.

Dorian stood beside Iron Bull, looking down towards where they'd left the boat. As Malika and Thom joined them, he remarked, "This is more than just attacking us on sight, Mal."

"You're right, Dorian," Malika agreed, pulling an arrow from her quiver and nocking it on the bow she'd picked up from Telana's remains. "They don't want us to find Ameridan's final resting place for some reason."

Drawing his sword and readying his shield, Thom rushed down the stairs after Iron Bull to engage the Hakkonites while Malika and Dorian attacked from above. Once they were dispatched, the four of them headed back to the boat and across the water to share their findings with Professor Kenric.

*

"Inquisitor, I understand you located the final resting place of Inquisitor Ameridan!" Professor Kenric greeted Malika eagerly when she, Thom, Dorian, and Iron Bull finally made it back to their base camp after defeating the dragon.

She nodded, fighting back her exhaustion. "I was able to speak with the Inquisitor briefly before he died."

"I'm sorry?" Kenric was understandably puzzled by her reply.

Feeling steadier when Thom pressed a hand to her back between her shoulder blades, Malika told him, "A ritual kept Inquisitor Ameridan alive all these centuries, binding him and the dragon."

"Oh, did his..." Kenric looked intrigued and thoughtful. "Telana cast some sort of spell before retreating? Or... You... You're not implying that Ameridan was a _mage_?" She frowned at his incredulity and he rushed to explain, "I'm committed to the truth, but if such an important figure in Chantry history were revealed to have been a mage..."

Forcing herself to remain calm, Malika further corrected him, " Not just a mage, Kenric. An _elven_ mage."

"An... oh. Oh, Andraste's dimples." He looked faint for a moment, but rallied. "This will be... I'll either be famous or beheaded." She managed a tired laugh before he fully explained the significance of this revelation. "This upends centuries of history, not to mention families claiming descent from him. There may be... consternation." He nodded firmly, looking resolute. "Nevertheless, what matters is the truth. If he was elven, then the Dalish... well, it will be... just brilliant." Kenric met her eyes steadily. "I will spread the word appropriately. Thank you again for this marvelous opportunity."

Malika nodded, accepting his absent-minded salute before turning to leave the building with Thom. He slipped an arm around her shoulders when she would have lost her balance. She reached up to squeeze his hand. "Thanks, Thom."

"Let's get you to bed, my lady," he murmured, guiding her over to the building that had been set aside for her and the others.

Dorian and Iron Bull were nowhere to be found when they reached it. She supposed they'd slipped away for some 'private time' in the wake of their battle with the dragon. Malika stifled a yawn as Thom helped her get ready for bed. Once she was curled up under the covers, she watched with sleepy eyes as Thom readied for bed, too. Once he'd joined her, drawing her into his arms despite the humidity, she asked, "D'you think Josie will kill me over this?"

"Why would she kill you?" Thom asked, frowning down at her.

She shrugged, fidgeting with his locket. "Kenric was right about the difficulties this will bring up. There's at least one noble family that claims descent from Ameridan. They may blame us for the difficulties it will cause."

"You know our lady," he reminded her, kissing her forehead. "Whatever problems will arise from the truth being revealed, she will handle them."

Malika nodded, resting her cheek against his chest, his heartbeat thudding steadily in her ear. "You're right. I'm just tired."

"Sleep, Mal. I have you." She felt him kiss the top of her head and smiled.

Just as she drifted off, she heard Dorian and Iron Bull enter the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a history buff, so two of the DLC were right up my alley. I tried to do them both justice.


	13. The Deep Roads & Arbor Wilds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After helping out in the Deep Roads, the Inquisition heads to the Arbor Wilds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of these scenes are new, but the last couple came from the original fic.

The day after Malika returned to Skyhold from the Frostback Basin, she gathered with Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen in the war room to discuss the ramifications of what she and Professor Kenric had uncovered regarding Inquisitor Ameridan. Josephine summarized the situation for them: "In light of new evidence regarding Inquisitor Ameridan's heritage, the d'Ameride family of Orlais has complained of harassment by the Dalish clan Ghilain, who insist that the d'Amerides have profited for centuries by claiming descent from Inquisitor Ameridan."

"Why this clan in particular?" Malika asked, looking curious. "Wait, do they claim descent from Ameridan as well?"

Josephine nodded, not surprised that Malika had deduced the reason already. "Yes, Inquisitor. Clan Ghilain has historically claimed descent from Ameridan, but authorities ignored them in favor of the d'Amerides."

"Of course they did." Malika sighed, and then gestured for Josephine to continue.

She finished by explaining the crux of the problem. "The Dalish would like reparations, while the d'Amerides would like this embarrassing matter to disappear."

"Thoughts on how we should handle this?" Malika looked at each of them curiously.

A little hesitantly, Josephine suggested, "If we bought the silence of clan Ghilain with a few mementos of their Inquisitor, the d'Amerides would be most grateful."

"No, that'd send the wrong message to everyone," Malika shook her head. "Leliana, Cullen?"

Quietly, Leliana offered, "We could use Dalish scouts. Bring clan Ghilain into the Inquisition; make the d'Amerides pay for our relative silence."

"A slightly better solution, but I'm not fond of it," Malika replied after considering it for several moments. "Cullen?"

He shrugged, and then said, "The d'Amerides have spent years profiting from a name they claimed falsely. The Dalish deserve honest reparations."

"You're right. I'm sure the d'Amerides have the coin to spare, they just don't want to pay it to elves," Malika agreed, looking pleased. "Josie, I'm sure you can write the d'Amerides a polite version of 'shut up and give them the damn money, they deserve a lot more,' yes?"

Not quite able to hide a smile at her love's choice of words, Josephine nodded even as she made a note to write a response that conveyed the meaning of Malika's words. "Yes, Inquisitor. I support your decision in this matter."

"Thank you." Malika nodded. "Now, has anything else come up while I was gone?"

Leliana picked up two pieces of parchment and offered them to Malika. "We sent Skywatcher to Stone-Bear Hold as you suggested with a note on the site where we found Tyrdda Bright-Axe's staff. These are the responses to both."

"Oh, good, I wondered how those worked out." Malika accepted the two pieces of parchment and skimmed through them. She giggled at the note regarding Skywatcher. "I will accept Svarah's word about his prowess in the bedroll. I'm quite happy with my own bed partners."

Josephine felt her cheeks heat while Leliana didn't _quite_ disguise her own laugh as a cough. Demurely, she said, "Thank you, Inquisitor."

"Of course, my lady Josie." Malika grinned and winked, setting down the two notes. "Is there anything else we need to discuss?"

Reluctantly, Josephine picked up the other missive that had arrived during Malika's absence. "One more thing, Inquisitor: Orzammar has requested aid from the Inquisition."

"Orzammar? Really?" Surprised, Malika accepted the note and skimmed through it. She scowled and muttered, "Fucking darkspawn."

Understanding Malika's feelings regarding them, Josephine gently told her, "Besides the darkspawn, Orzammar is a key provider of the Inquisition's lyrium supplies, and as such, its security is a top priority."

"Yeah, I know." Malika handed the parchment back to Josephine. "So, we need to construct a mining lift to get down there. Ideas?" Josephine suggested hiring dwarven construction workers since they were the best suited to such work. Leliana just said she knew where to find people who could build one. Cullen, naturally, suggested sending his own troops to build a lift. "If we want a lift that will last and hold even Iron Bull's weight, dwarves would be best. Josie?"

She nodded. "I'll contact them right away, Inquisitor."

"Besides, this is mostly _their_ problem, if they want my help, they can bloody well give me a way down there." Malika scrubbed her face with the heels of her palms. "Anything else?" They shook their heads. "Good. Meeting adjourned."

Cullen and Leliana wasted no time leaving the war room. Malika lingered to take Josephine's hand and walk with her to her office. "Are you all right, my love?"

"Still kind of absorbing everything that we uncovered in the Frostback Basin," Malika replied quietly, kissing the back of Josephine's hand.

Josephine smiled faintly. "I understand. What was Ameridan like?"

"Tired and resigned," Malika told her after a few moments. "He didn't want to be the Inquisitor any more than I did." Once Josephine sat down at her desk, she added, "He did give me one bit of advice that I value."

Looking at her curiously, Josephine asked, "What advice was that?"

"Take moments of happiness where you find them," Malika recited, clearly having memorized his advice. "The world will take the rest."

She smiled when Malika cupped her cheek, brushing a kiss across her palm. "Sound advice."

"Indeed." Malika leaned down to kiss her softly. "I'll leave you to your work, Josie."

Cupping the back of her neck, Josephine drew her into a deeper kiss. "Until later, my love."

"Until later."

*

"You and the Inquisitor, huh?" Lieutenant Renn's voice startled Thom as he sat with his sword across his knees, watching the darkness for any hint of danger. They'd been underground for... he'd lost track of the days. For now, they were attempting to track the source of the earthquakes.

Shifting his weight slightly, he replied, "What about us, Lieutenant?"

"You care for each other, don't you?" Renn asked, drawing his double-bladed axe and laying it across his knees.

Not sure how the dwarf would feel about Malika being involved with a human (let alone two!), he only said, "She's the Inquisitor, of course I care for her."

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Renn retorted, taking out a whetstone and smoothing it along one blade of his axe.

Thom glanced over his shoulder at where she sat with Shaper Valta, the two dwarf women talking and gesturing with bright smiles on their faces, clearly delighted to have found a kindred spirit. Turning back towards the darkness, he finally answered Renn's question, "Yes. I love her. I don’t know why she loves a sorry bastard like me, but I’m grateful she does."

"I know _exactly_ what you mean." Renn glanced over his shoulder, though Thom doubted he was looking at Malika. Turning back to his axe, Renn flipped it over and began sharpening the other blade. "If I’ve learned _anything_ from being a dead man walking, it's to take my chances at happiness when and where I can."

His voice gruff with the emotion Renn's words had stirred up, Thom asked, "Is that what you and Shaper Valta have done?"

"Aye. We don't regret it." Renn finished sharpening his axe and tucked the whetstone back into its pocket. "I'll stand watch. You go sit with the Inquisitor."

Nodding, Thom stood up and walked over to Malika and Valta. Both looked up and smiled at his approach. "Everything all right, Thom?"

"All quiet for now, my lady," he told her, gesturing with one hand. "May I join you?"

Malika nodded, her bright smile taking his breath away. "Of course. Valta was about to tell me what she could about my house. They were exiled long before I was born and no one ever told me why."

"Indeed?" After a moment of internal debate, Thom sat down behind Malika so his legs bracketed hers, sliding his arms around her waist.

Valta didn't bat an eyelash at his move nor at the way Malika leaned back against him, only stating, "Family histories aren't my area of expertise, but I _can_ say that House Cadash tried to obtain information about a war golem during the First Blight."

"Why would that warrant exile?" Malika asked, sounding puzzled.

Clearly choosing her words carefully, Valta explained, "Their methods were considered... _offensive_. House Cadash was feared long before it joined the Carta."

"Joined the Carta?" Thom repeated, surprised by that tidbit of information.

Malika twisted to look up at him. "I didn't join the Carta by choice, Thom. House Cadash has been a Carta family for a long time. Father hoped I would be the first Cadash to escape its clutches in centuries."

"Except darkspawn killed him." He tightened his arms around Malika briefly, remembering things she'd shared with him and Josephine.

She nodded, finding his hands and clasping them. "Yes. I had to join the Carta to support Mother and Shayla."

"Shayla?" Valta repeated, leaning forward slightly.

Malika nodded slowly. "Yes, my younger sister."

"I just remembered," Valta told them with an apologetic smile. "The Hero of Ferelden brought a rubbing to the Shaperate of a list of Dwarven warriors who were turned into golems. The only woman on the list was a Shayle Cadash."

Thom frowned and asked, "You said turned _into_ golems?"

Valta nodded, grimacing. "Yes, it was not... pleasant when this fact was revealed."

"Maybe this Shayle was the golem House Cadash was searching for," Malika murmured thoughtfully, idly playing with Thom's fingers.

A shrug from Valta. "Maybe. I've told you all I can for now."

"Of course. Thank you very much." Malika remained in Thom's arms as Valta excused herself and walked over to join Renn, sitting close enough beside him for their shoulders to touch. She murmured, quiet enough for only Thom to hear, "They're a couple."

Thom kissed the top of her head. "He told me as much."

"The way they bicker reminded me of my parents when I was little," she confided. "They loved each other and we lost Father far too soon."

When she began shifting, he loosened his arms so she could turn and wrap her arms around him. He kissed her softly. "I love you, Mal."

"I love you, too, Thom."

*

Malika knew she was worrying the others with her silence as they trekked back through the Deep Roads, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. Not yet. They'd discovered the cause of the earthquakes and stopped it somehow, but at what cost? She'd found a kindred spirit in Valta, someone who shared her love of history and desire for knowledge. Renn had reminded her of her father in some ways, gruff yet kind. Now both were gone. When they stopped to rest, Thom gathered her into his arms, holding her close. "My lady?"

"I liked them, Thom," she finally told him, curling as close to him as she could. "She's-- I think, if circumstances had been different, I'd have been like Valta."

He combed his fingers through her hair, his expression fond. "Are you sure you'd have been happy, staying in Orzammar and letting others go out and fight?"

"If it'd been all I'd known, maybe." Malika managed a tiny smile. "What did Renn say to you?"

Thom's arms tightened around her for a few moments. "Reminded me to enjoy what happiness I can when I find it."

"Everyone seems to be saying that," she mused, remembering Ameridan's words to her.

A chuckle rumbled pleasantly under her hand where it rested against his chest. "Given the lives we lead, is it any surprise?"

"Not really." She shook her head, tilting her head to kiss his cheek.

He kissed her cheek in return. "At least Valta is alive, even if we don't know what she'll get up to after... everything."

"I know. I just... it was nice to have someone I could talk to like that." Malika shifted so she could tuck her face into the curve of his neck and shoulder.

They lay in comfortable silence until they drifted off to sleep. When they woke up, the four of them continued back to the Legion camp. As they walked, Varric declared, "Well, shit."

"What's wrong?" Malika asked him, not liking the stricken expression on his face.

As they continued to walk, he asked, "You remember what Bianca said about lyrium?"

"She said it was alive, didn't she? And that the red lyrium has the Blight?" Thom, walking alongside Malika, contributed that remark.

Malika's eyes widened as she realized what Varric was getting at. "Lyirum is alive because it's the Titans' blood."

"That's why it can be used to power magic," Vivienne finished, looking as if she'd just tasted something sour.

Varric looked grim. "A friend once said that the two best ways to cast powerful spells were blood and lyrium."

"Since lyirum is Titans' blood, that means all magic is blood magic, in essence," Malika sighed, exasperated. " _That_ 'll go over well."

Thom wrapped his arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently for a moment. "Are you going to tell people? It's not quite the same as the news about Ameridan."

"I don't know." She leaned into his side for a moment, sighing again.

They finished their trek in silence. Lace smiled when she saw them return. Then she turned to the dwarf beside her. "She always comes back. Pay up, salroka."

A huff of laughter escaped Malika at the disgruntled expression on the dwarf's face. Despite everything they'd learned, it was good to know that some people still had faith in her.

*

"Are you certain about coming with us, Josie?" Malika asked as the three of them cuddled on the couch in their quarters. "It won't be safe."

Josephine kissed Malika's forehead. "I know, my love, but it won't just be Inquisition forces there. You'll need me to help mediate."

"We don't want you hurt, my lady," Thom explained, his voice a gentle rumble against her side.

Malika shifted, stretching up to kiss Josephine softly. "We want you safe."

"I won't be in _nearly_ as much danger as you two," Josephine reminded them, returning Malika's kiss, and then twisting to kiss Thom.

He pressed his forehead against hers when they parted to catch their breath. "Promise us that you'll leave should the fighting get too close to you."

"We don't want to lose you," Malika added, carefully kneeling so she could press her forehead against theirs as well.

Josephine breathed in their combined scents as she wound her arms around her lovers: metal and stone mixed with leather, woodsmoke, and armor polish. "Only if you two can promise me that you'll return safely once you've found this 'eluvian' Morrigan spoke of."

"You know we can't," Thom grumbled.

Malika sighed softly. "We'll fight to come back to you, Josie."

"That's all I ask of you." She tightened her arms around them. "Both of you, my darling loves."

With that, Thom and Malika both kissed her and Josephine couldn't stifle a moan of pleasure. This would probably be the last night they could indulge so freely in their love for each other and they intended to make the most of it.

*

"I did not expect the Well to feel so... hungry," Morrigan remarked as she and Malika stood staring down at it.

Thom moved closer to the two women, distrustful of the tone of the witch's voice. Malika didn't take her eyes off Morrigan. "Seems like that should be a concern."

"Knowledge begets a hunger for more," Morrigan replied with a sidelong glance at Malika, who nodded with a tiny huff of laughter. After staring at the Well for a long, silent moment, she added, "I am willing to pay the price the Well demands. I am also the best suited to use its knowledge in your service."

Solas countered her with a scornful expression. "Or more likely, to your own ends."

"What would you know of my 'ends,' Elf?" Morrigan snapped, glaring at him.

Solas snapped right back at her, the angriest Thom had ever seen him, "You are a glutton drooling at the sight of a feast. You cannot be trusted."

"Of those present, I alone have the training to make use of this." Morrigan glanced disdainfully at Thom and Sera, completely ignoring Solas now. "Let me drink, Inquisitor."

Malika raised her eyebrows at Morrigan, "You're not concerned about the price? 'Bound forever to the will of Mythal'?"

"Bound to the will of a dead god?" Morrigan sounded skeptical. "It seems an empty warning." She shrugged slightly. "Perhaps a compulsion yet remains. Who can say otherwise? I do not fear it, even so."

Folding her arms across her chest, Malika asked, "What 'training' makes you so qualified?"

"I have studied the oldest lore," Morrigan countered, sounding nettled that Malika didn't believe her. "I have delved into mysteries of which you could only dream! Can you honestly tell me there is anyone better suited?"

Dropping her arms, Malika turned to Solas. "What about you, Solas?"

"No." He shook his head, looking ready to step back if Malika insisted. "Do not ask me again."

Glancing at Thom and Sera, Malika then looked at Morrigan. "Perhaps I should drink, then."

"You lead the Inquisition," Morrigan reminded her, sounding desperate now. "This is not a risk you can take. I have the best chance of making use of the Well... for everyone. Let me drink."

After gazing up at Morrigan for a long moment, Malika turned to the rest of them. "I hate to say it, but Abelas's plan to destroy the Well may be the best one."

"What happens when Corypheus comes for you again?" Morrigan contradicted. Clearly, destroying the Well was the last thing she wanted to happen, even if she didn't drink. "He is immortal. The wisdom of the Well may include a way to destroy him. Give me this, and I fight at your side. I shall be your sword."

Thoughtful, Malika looked at the Well, her head cocked as the crystal clear water rippled in the sunlight. "Looking at it, listening to it... That's not just knowledge from the ancient elven priests. It's their will."

"How would you know such a thing?" Morrigan's voice was derisive.

Thom knew better than the others that Malika spent much of her spare time reading books that she thought might help her be a good leader and Inquisitor. She didn't mention that, though, only explaining, "That's what Abelas was telling us. The collective will of the priests puts anyone who drinks under a compulsion, a geas. Can't you feel it?"

"That... would match the legends," Morrigan agreed reluctantly, "but it does not tell us what the geas entails." For the first time since they caught up to Abelas, Morrigan appeared uncertain. "I would still use the Well, but you are right. We must be cautious."

Finally, Malika turned to the rest of them. "Thoughts?"

"She is right about only one thing," Solas answered promptly. "We should take the power which lies in that well."

Sera replied while Thom debated with himself over what to say. "It's called the Well of Sorrows. Sorrows. No one should go in the Well of _Sorrows_."

"I won't lose you, my lady," Thom finally told her, moving to her side. He'd come close to it so many times already. If there was a chance to avoid it _this_ time, they should take it. "Let the witch use the Well."

She reached up to clasp his hand, her smile sad and understanding. Morrigan interrupted before Malika could say anything, "Enough deliberation. Give me your decision."

"If anyone is to use the Well, it will be me." Malika looked up at him apologetically.

Morrigan scowled, snapping before Thom could react, "So you will take what little knowledge you can understand, and let the rest go to waste?"

"And who's to say it will go to waste?" Malika snapped back, clearly done with Morrigan's attitude and general air of superiority.

Still scowling, Morrigan retorted, "I do." Gold eyes locked with blue, Morrigan tense and angry while Malika resolute and immovable. Eventually, the witch sighed, the tension leaving her. "Perhaps it is better this way."

"My lady..." Unable to speak for the fear clogging his throat, Thom gathered Malika into a tight hug, worried about what drinking from the Well would do.

She hugged him back, gently pulling him down so she could whisper to him, "I don't trust her with it, Thom. I'm sorry."

"I understand, my lady," he whispered back, closing his eyes and nodding, resigned. It was just like Malika to take a burden upon herself instead of leaving it to others. That was one reason among many that he loved her. "I love you."

She pressed their foreheads together for a moment, whispering, ""I love you, too." When he straightened up and moved back to join the other two, Sera hugged him for a moment and Solas gave him an understanding nod.

"Do as you will with the Well of Sorrows, Inquisitor, but be careful." Morrigan's impatience at Malika's delay was obvious.

Slowly, carefully, Malika stepped down into the liquid. It swirled around her, but her clothes and weapons remained dry. Turning, she looked back at them with a reassuring smile. Then she cupped her hands together to scoop up the liquid and drink. The burst of magic that followed knocked all of them to the ground. Thom clambered back to his feet as quickly as he could, but the others were faster, gathering around Malika, who lay unconscious at the bottom of what had been the Well. He pushed his way between them to kneel beside her, his heartbeat thudding in his chest. "My lady? Maker, please let her keep breathing."

"Thom?" Malika whispered his name as she stirred and slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. "Oh, my head."

"How do you feel?" he asked, unable to stop himself from pulling her into a tight hug, reassuring himself that she was still alive, still with them.

She clung to him in turn, her face pressed into his neck. "I--" Then she stiffened and pulled away, turning to look back the way they'd come. Corypheus stood there and gave a cry of rage when he saw them. As he started flying towards them, they readied for battle.

"No, through the eluvian." Morrigan reminded them why they'd come to the temple. "You have the key now, Inquisitor."

Malika thought for a moment, and then gestured towards the eluvian with her right hand. It began to glow and Morrigan ran through first, followed by Sera and Solas. Thom scooped up Malika and followed them through. He stumbled to his knees on the familiar worn stones of Skyhold, still holding Malika. He didn't think anything of the crunch he heard until Malika said, "Thom, don't move."

"What?" He blinked and looked around. "Maker's balls."

Scattered across the floor were shards of red lyrium, some as small as pebbles, others large enough to be weapons. Morrigan, Solas, and Sera stood in the doorway to the small room, both mages with their hands extended, glowing with magic. Malika stayed in his arms and looked at the others. "Someone go get Dagna. She'll need to dispose of these."

"On it, Glowy." Giving a jaunty salute, Sera took off.

Solas and Morrigan slowly lowered their hands, their magic dissipating as they did. Malika looked at Morrigan. "Please go inform Leliana of our return. Josephine and Cullen will need to be notified."

"I--" Morrigan seemed ready to protest, but stopped when Solas turned to her. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Yes, Inquisitor."

Alone with them, Solas said, " _Why_ Malika? Why did you drink it?"

"I don't trust Morrigan," Malika told him simply. "I trust _you_ , though."

That caught Solas off-guard, because he reared back as if he'd been struck. "What?"

"I trust you to do what's necessary if the worst happens," Malika explained.

Thom tightened his arms around her. "Mal, what are you saying?"

"The Well of Sorrows," she explained, shifting to look at him. "Drinking it bound me to Mythal, whoever she is. She can force me to do whatever she wants if she chooses. I trust Solas to stop me somehow if it's not something I would normally do. Even to the point of killing me."

Shaking his head, Thom hugged her tightly, burying his face in her hair. "No, Mal. Don't--"

"I _have_ to think of these things, Thom," she whispered, hugging him back. "I half-expect the final confrontation to--"

Thom shook his head again. "No, my lady. You've survived this long. You _will_ survive again."

"Stone, I hope so." She eased back enough to kiss him. She tasted of cool metal, stinging cold, and ancient wisdom.

As he held her close, a strange voice whispered in the back of his head: _Trust her._

*

Malika _hated_ waiting for things to happen. That's why she'd volunteered to go to the Conclave: it meant _doing_ something instead of waiting. And she ended up with an anchor on her hand, leadership of an entire organization, and now voices in her head. So, here she was, waiting for Cullen and Josephine to return from the Arbor Wilds. It was worth it, though, to greet Josephine and Cullen when they arrived, playful and teasing, "Well, this is a bit of a change, isn't it, Josie?"

"Oh, my love." Josephine slid from her horse's back and gathered Malika to her for a fierce, enthusiastic kiss that was equal parts relief and happiness.

Making a surprised sound in the back of her throat, Malika responded eagerly to the kiss, winding her arms around Josephine's waist to pull her closer. She could get used to this. After a few moments, Cullen cleared his throat very loudly. "Inquisitor."

"Oh!" Josephine blushed and pulled back, her hands coming up to cover her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me."

Smiling, Thom pulled her into a kiss of his own. Malika giggled at the exasperated expression on Cullen's face. "We've missed her, Cullen."

"I understand, Malika." The exasperation faded and Cullen relaxed.

When she'd judged that Thom and Josephine had had enough time to say 'hello', Malika loudly told them, "Time to break it up, you two. We can finish saying our hellos later."

"Fine, fine." Thom chuckled, gently easing back from the kiss.

Josephine looked a little dazed, clutching Thom's sleeve. "Well! I--"

"I'm pleased to report we won the battle, Inquisitor." Cullen interrupted before she could continue her thought, looking both satisfied and concerned. "When you went through that mirror, Corypheus and his Archdemon fled the field. I'm not sure why."

Morrigan had joined them by then and she shrugged as she provided an answer, "What he wanted was no longer within the temple."

"Perhaps." Cullen didn't look completely convinced, not that Malika blamed him. "He spent so long trying to get into the temple, he probably couldn't have helped his forces by that point."

A little hopefully, Josephine asked, "Then Corypheus is finished?"

"If he is wise, he will hide and rebuild his strength before he attacks again," Leliana offered, joining them as well, one of her birds perched on her shoulder.

Standing with Josephine and Thom, Malika bowed her head for a moment, listening to the voices. They'd become almost constant background noise now and she could understand them best when she stilled herself and waited. "He will not hide. It's not in his nature."

"How do you know?" Cullen all but demanded.

Josephine and Thom tightened their arms around Malika's shoulders, clearly protective of her. It was a familiar reaction from Thom, but new from Josephine. Malika sighed softly, resigned to explaining, _again_. "Let's go to the war room."

"Mal." Josephine held her back while the others walked ahead.

Taking Josephine's hands, Malika squeezed them gently. "I've told this story several times already, Josie. I'd rather tell you and Cullen together."

"I missed you," Josephine told her, kissing her again.

Malika smiled and returned the kiss. "I missed you, too. I'll show you _how_ much later."

"I look forward to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Valta and Renn, just saying that off the bat. Valta is pretty much who I'd be as a dwarf in Thedas.


	14. Doom Upon All the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the final battle with Corypheus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the scenes in this chapter are new. The last one is the only one from the previous version.

"Josie." Leliana's voice, worried and stressed, distracted Josephine from her work.

She looked up with a smile that quickly faded when she saw her friend's expression. "Leliana. What is it?"

"Morrigan chased after her son into the eluvian," Leliana explained, her expression strained. "She was terrified in a way I've not seen before."

Josephine stood up from her desk, quickly putting her things away. "She was _chasing_ Kieran?"

"Yes. She said _he_ activated the mirror somehow, and then she ran into it." Her friend hesitated a moment before continuing. "Malika arrived not long afterwards and she also went through the eluvian, presumably to help Morrigan."

She leaned on the desk for a moment, closing her eyes briefly. "Maker help us all. Have you spoken with anyone else?"

"Not yet. I came to you first because I felt you should know," Leliana clarified, gathering Josephine into a hug.

Josephine returned the hug for several moments, grateful for Leliana's friendship. "You should speak with the mages. They might know something we don't."

"I will. I assume you'll wait by the eluvian for their return." A small smile twitched at Leliana's lips despite the gravity of the situation.

She nodded firmly. "Of course. Don't forget to tell Thom."

"Of course." Leliana nodded and they parted ways in the great hall.

Josephine had only paced beside the eluvian for a minute or two when Thom arrived, looking as worried as she felt. "My lady."

"Oh, Thom." As he gathered her into a tight hug, Josephine gripped his gambeson tightly.

He kissed the top of her head, gently rubbing her back. "No sign of Mal or Lady Morrigan?"

She shook her head, pressing her face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. "None yet, but the eluvian hasn't changed, either, so I suppose that's a good sign?"

"I'll take it as one," Thom replied, easing his hold on her so she could look at the eluvian.

Thom helped her perch on a box while they waited for the others' return. Eventually, the surface of the eluvian rippled and Morrigan emerged, a hand on Kieran's shoulder. Malika emerged right after them, going right to Josephine and Thom, who gathered her into a tight hug. Before they could speak, Morrigan addressed her son: "Are you all right, Kieran? You are not hurt?"

"I feel lonely," Kieran replied, looking sad, which was unusual for him. The few times Josephine had seen him, he seemed happy and content.

She nodded, hugging him tight for a moment, and then tilting her head towards the door to the garden. While Kieran left, Malika walked over to join Morrigan. Bitterly, she told the Inquisitor, "She wanted the Old God soul all along." Turning to Malika, she asked, "Is it worth reminding myself that perhaps I do not know everything after all?"

"We can never know everything, Morrigan," Malika reminded her in a quiet, steely voice, folding her arms across her chest.

Morrigan inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement. "My mother has the soul of an elven goddess--or whatever 'Mythal' truly was--and her plans are unknown to me."

"You truly had no idea what she was?" Malika asked while Josephine and Thom exchanged surprised glances at the revelation.

Looking angry, Morrigan replied, "I knew she kept the truth from me. I even suspected she was not truly human... but this?" She shook her head. "I always thought the so-called 'elven gods' were little more than glorified rulers, but now I have doubt." She glanced away for a moment. "And doubt is... an uncomfortable thing, Inquisitor." After a moment, she continued with a wry twist to her mouth, "I suppose I should be thankful you drank from the Well. Eternal servitude to Mother would not be my first choice."

"So Kieran had... the soul of an Old God?" Malika inquired curiously as Josephine grasped Thom's hand tightly, wondering what exactly Morrigan meant.

"Taken from the Archdemon at the final battle of the Fifth Blight, yes." Morrigan nodded, looking defensive. "He has never known anything else. I am uncertain what effect this will have on him."

Malika frowned. "But why did you...?"

"I told you at the temple," Morrigan interrupted, clearly impatient. "The magic of old must be preserved, no matter how feared." She sighed, looking uncertain. "Kieran had a destiny, and now it is in Flemeth's hands. I suppose we shall see what she does with it."

Josephine certainly recognized the name Flemeth, but she wasn't sure how she fit into what Morrigan and Malika were discussing. Gently, her love told the witch: "For what it's worth, I think you did the right thing."

"Did I?' Morrigan still looked uncertain, but a faint smile curled her lips. "She was testing me, and I cannot tell whether I passed."

She walked to the eluvian and gestured to close it. Then she left the storage room, squeezing Malika's shoulder for a moment as she passed her. Alone, Josephine and Thom walked over to hug their love between them once again. "My lady Mal, are you all right?"

"No, I'm not, Thom," she replied, shaking her head as she leaned into them.

Josephine kissed the top of her head. "What did you learn?"

"Something that requires me to visit an ancient altar," Malika explained, reaching up to draw Josephine and Thom into gentle kisses.

When they left the storage room, they found Leliana and Cullen waiting for them. "Are you all right, Inquisitor?"

"Unsettled, Commander," Malika told him. "I need to speak with you two in the war room."

They nodded and Leliana asked, "Anyone else?"

"Yes, please ask Iron Bull and Dorian to join us, too," Malika requested after thinking for a moment or two.

The strode off and the three of followed at a slower pace. Josephine wondered exactly what had happened in the eluvian, but supposed she would find out in the war room.

*

"Why is this ancient altar out here in the middle of the wilds?" Dorian asked, making a disgusted face as they picked their way through the grass behind Malika.

Thom kept his focus on their surroundings, staying at Malika's side. When he rested a hand on her shoulder, she looked up at him with a smile and covered his gloved hand with hers. When Dorian and the Iron Bull joined them, she addressed the former's question: "According to Morrigan, the ancient elves didn't leave roads behind because they used eluvians to get from place to place."

"They lived everywhere, too," Iron Bull added, a big hand resting on Dorian's back. "Bet there are a lot more ruins that no one can get to anymore."

Glancing around again, Thom asked, "How are you supposed to summon this dragon guardian?"

"I need silence for a moment," she requested, moving to stand before the crumbling remains of the altar. Dorian and Iron Bull moved back a few paces. After a moment, Thom squeezed Malika's shoulder and stepped back as well. She bowed her head for a few moments, and then lifted it to recite, her voice clear and strong, "We few who travel far, call to me, and I will come. Without mercy, without fear." After a short silence, she turned, looking everywhere. "If I must master a dragon to fight Corypheus, then send it!"

Moments later, the familiar shriek of a dragon drew their attention. Drawing his axe, Iron Bull exclaimed, "Aw, yeah! You're the _best_ , Boss!"

"Don't kill it!" Malika reminded them as she drew her bow and arrows, moving to a position off to the side of the dragon.

Dorian mirrored her action, plucking his staff and twirling it as he moved. "I might not have been the best choice for this fight, Mal."

"He has a point, my lady," Thom added, drawing his sword and settling his shield on his arm.

Iron Bull charged at the dragon with a roar of his own. "Little late for that, Thom." Raising her voice, she added, "I know cold spells aren't your specialty, Dorian, but do what you can!"

"Guess the voices didn't tell her the dragon would be resistant to fire," Iron Bull muttered at Thom as the latter charged forward to begin hacking away at the yellow green hide.

Thom shrugged, ducking behind his shield as the dragon exhaled a jet of flames. He flinched at the heat his shield absorbed from it. "Maker's balls, that's hot."

"Keep fighting!" Malika called. As he ducked and dodged, Thom could see her shooting arrow after arrow at the dragon. On the other side, Dorian cast spell after spell, occasionally taking a moment to down a lyrium potion with a grimace. Just as Thom's arm began to tire and he could see Iron Bull bleeding from multiple injuries, Malika bellowed, "Stop fighting!"

They moved back as she stepped closer to the dragon, bright blue eyes intent as she gazed up at the creature. Dorian joined them and began casting healing spells on Iron Bull's injuries. Thom, however, couldn't take his eyes off his lover. She didn't flinch when the dragon roared in her face. Instead, she stood even straighter and blue-white power seemed to float from her head and into the dragon's eyes. Blinking, it shrieked again and took off. As they stood there, Dorian murmured. "If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have believed it."

"You stared it down," Thom muttered, wrapping an arm around Malika's shoulders when she joined them. "You _actually_ stared it down!"

She leaned into him, wrapping her arm around his waist. "It will come when I summon it. Once." Sighing deeply, her arm tightened around him for a moment. "That's enough to fight Corypheus, however. I have my dragon."

"Let's head back to Skyhold," Dorian suggested, tugging on Iron Bull's arm to encourage him to stand up.

While the qunari did so and the other two headed back to their horses, Thom bent to press his forehead against Malika's. "Is it wrong that I found that hot?"

"Found what hot?" She looked puzzled, brushing her fingers through his beard.

He cradled her face between his hands. "The way you stared the dragon down, unflinching and immovable as stone."

"Flatterer." Malika smiled, drawing him into a kiss that promised more.

Thom returned the kiss with pleasure. "I love you, Mal."

"I love you, too, Thom."

*

"You have been very quiet, my love." Josephine's voice distracted Malika as she sat on the couch between her lovers, staring into the fire before them.

Blinking, she looked up to see both Josephine and Thom looking down at her with concerned expressions. She sighed deeply, deciding she should tell them more about what happened in the Fade with Morrigan and her family. "Yes, I suppose I have been."

"Are you going to tell us why?" Thom asked, his voice as gentle as his hand as he smoothed her hair back from her face.

Josephine kissed the top of her head. "Only if you _wish_ to, of course."

"I _do_ want to." Malika sighed and pushed an errant lock of hair out of her eyes. "I didn't share _everything_ that happened when I went into the eluvian after Morrigan."

Taking her hand in his, Thom told her, "We gathered that much from things you and Morrigan said when you returned."

"And what you told us in the war room," Josephine added, holding Malika's other hand in hers.

She nodded, biting her lip for a moment. "We went into the Fade somehow and met Morrigan's mother, Flemeth. She has the soul of the goddess Mythal and I drank from her Well."

"Those are all true," Thom looked uncertain. "I'm not sure-- wait, you said drinking from the Well bound you to Mythal."

Josephine frowned, lines creasing her forehead. "Morrigan said something about eternal servitude to her mother. Is that what she meant?"

"Yes. It-- I--" Malika stopped and exhaled an exasperated sigh. "I was worried we wouldn't be able to find Kieran because the Fade is, well, the Fade." Her lovers laughed softly. "We did, though, and he was with Flemeth. His grandmother, apparently."

Thom shifted so he could look at her directly. "Did something happen, my lady?"

"What have you not shared?" Josephine looked worried as she mirrored Thom's move.

Touched by their concern, Malika squeezed their hands reassuringly. "Morrigan wasn't happy to see her mother. In fact, she tried to attack her." Releasing their hands, Malika stared down at hers, remembering that moment. "Then, like a puppet, at a gesture from Flemeth, I reached out and stopped Morrigan."

"Like a puppet?" Thom repeated, scowling fiercely.

Josephine slipped an arm around his waist and he relaxed slightly. "You didn't do it yourself?"

"No. An outside force made me do it," Malika whispered the words, hating how helpless she'd felt, her body acting on its own. "Flemeth."

Thom shook his head. "You said it yourself, my lady: Mythal."

"Do you think she's still controlling you?" Jospehine asked, concern creasing her forehead.

Malika shook her head this time. "No. I think she did it that time to make a point. To remind both of us of the price of drinking the Well."

"As long as you are still our lady love." When Thom reached out to pull her to them, she went into their arms willingly.

They crowded her between them and the couch, taking turns kissing her breathless. Josephine pressed her forehead to Malika's, tracing one of her tattoos. "I hope this Flemeth or Mythal leaves you alone after this, my love."

"I think she will. Her main interest was Kieran." Malika was too distracted by her lovers to consult with the voices from the Well.

Thom pressed his forehead against theirs, arms tight around both of them. "As long as _we_ can have _you_ , my lady."

*

"Did you... find what you need, Inquisitor?" Leliana asked when they gathered in the war room the following day.

Malika nodded, standing as tall as she could and Josephine couldn't be prouder of her beloved. "I can match the dragon. Corypheus is another story."

"Then all that remains is to find Corypheus before he comes to us," Cullen responded, looking stern and determined.

Leliana shook her head slightly on his other side. "We've been looking for his base since all this began, with no success."

"His dragon must come and go from _somewhere_ ," Cullen retorted, squeezing the hilt of his sword with one hand.

Josephine suggested an idea that had been niggling at her ever since Malika reported that Corypheus could take over bodies. "What about the Deep Roads? We could send word to Orzammar, hire envoys to--"

"Stone." Malika muttered as familiar sickly green light flooded into the room through the windows, the Anchor flaring to life so green magic twined around her hand and fingers, her arm shaking. They turned to look out the window and Josephine's heart sank when she saw the Breach in the sky once more. Behind her, she heard Malika snarl, "Corypheus."

They turned to look at Malika and Leliana asked, " _He_ did that? But why?"

"Either I close the Breach again, or it swallows the world." Josephine wondered if this knowledge came from the Well.

Remembering what had happened the last time Malika closed the Breach, Josephine pointed out, "But that's madness! Wouldn't it kill him as well?"

"Inquisitor, we have no forces to send with you," Cullen told her after a short silence as they realized the answer themselves: Corypheus had nothing left to lose. "We must wait for them to return from the Arbor Wilds."

She shook her head. "I must go now, before it's too late."

"My love," Josephine caught Malika before she could leave the war room. They hugged tightly. "The wait this time will be unbearable."

Malika kissed her, hard and desperate. Blue eyes met hazel when they parted for breath, "I'll be thinking of you every step past Skyhold."

"Flattering, but you have my permission to think of Thom, too," Josephine managed a tiny smile, tracing Malika's tattoos. "And your battle, of course." Laughing softly, Malika caught Josephine's hand and kissed the palm. "Please be sure to... I hope that you'll..." She stopped and dashed away a tear that managed to escape down her cheek, admitting the one wish that had been on her mind for months. "Maker, I wish you didn't have to go."

Making no effort to stop the tears trickling down her own cheeks, Malika told her, "You mean the world to me, Josephine Montilyet."

"Then return to me safely," she requested, cradling Malika's face between her hands. "You and Thom both."

Malika drew her into another kiss. "We will."

"'Tis time, Inquisitor," Morrigan reminded them.

Reluctantly, Malika stepped back from Josephine and led them from the war room. Most of the Inquisition still at Skyhold had gathered in the courtyard. Thom spotted them as they descended the stairs. "My ladies. Is it time?"

"Corypheus has made his move," Malika replied, letting Thom wrap her in a tight hug. They whispered back and forth for a few moments before sharing a kiss. Stepping away from him, she addressed the others. "Dorian, Sera, you're joining me and Thom."

Josephine caught his arm, squeezing tightly. "Thom..."

"I will keep our lady love safe, my lady," he told her, drawing her into a tight embrace. "I lost you both once already, I'll not lose either of you again."

She clung to him, breathing in the scent of armor polish, woodsmoke, and leather that always clung to him. "I'll hold you to that, my darling."

"I love you, Josie," he whispered, kissing her.

Josephine watched with her heart in her throat as he joined Malika, who led him and everyone else who could fight from Skyhold. When Leliana rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, she turned and clung to her friend. _This will be the longest wait of my life._

*

In the scramble to escape falling rocks and collapsing walls, Thom lost track of where everyone was, especially Malika. He picked himself up once everything stopped falling and crashing. "Is everyone all right?"

"I'm fine, of course," Dorian answered first, bracing himself with his staff to get to his feet.

Before he was steady, Iron Bull strode past Thom to gather Dorian into a hug. Instead of protesting, the mage returned the hug, resting his cheek against a broad gray shoulder. Sera staggered to her feet. "'Mfine, but where's Glowy?"

"Wasn't she right behind us?" Thom asked, turning in place, beginning to panic when he realized that Malika wasn't there.

Setting Dorian on his feet, Iron Bull added, "I mean, the Boss has the shortest legs and I'm assuming she was furthest away."

"Inquisitor?" Cassandra called as they gathered around, looking up the stairs that Thom vaguely remembered all but throwing himself down just moments ago. "Are you alive?"

After a short, tense wait, Malika appeared at the top of the stairs. Her face and leather armor were streaked with dirt and blood (he hoped most of it was from the dragon). As she slowly descended towards them, Thom barely noticed that Solas had appeared at the top of the stairs himself. Vivienne found her voice first, "Then it's over? How lovely."

"And you live," Thom added, covering the distance between them as quickly as he could. "I can breathe again."

Malika smiled, letting him tug her into a relieved kiss. When they parted, she whispered, "He's gone. It's over."

"The sky is healed, healthy...whole." Cole's voice reminded them that they weren't alone. "There's just that left to remember."

Looping her arm around Thom's waist, Malika sounded satisfied when she responded. "Looks that way."

"What do we do now?" Cassandra asked, looking lost for the first time that Thom could remember since meeting the woman.

Malika shrugged. "We go back to Skyhold."

"Back home," Thom agreed with a nod, kissing the top of Malika's head.

As they started towards the exit, Malika pulled away from Thom so Sera, Dorian, Iron Bull, and Varric could take turns hugging her, expressing their relief that she'd survived. Cassandra looked like she didn't quite know what she wanted to do and eventually settled for squeezing the dwarf's shoulders firmly. Vivienne patted her shoulder with a nod of approval. Picking their way down the path, Dorian suddenly asked, "Where's Solas?"

"I talked to him back at--" Malika gestured vaguely back towards the temple.

Lace Harding found her way to Malika's side. "Would you like us to look for him, Inquisitor?"

"Just check if he's still there or taking another path down," Malika requested quietly.

Nodding, Lace saluted and turned to give orders to the scouts traveling with them. They melted away the next moment. Sighing, Malika leaned against Thom. "Are you all right, my lady?"

"I don't think they're going to find him," she murmured, looking thoughtful.

Thom nodded. He didn't know the elven apostate like Malika did, but he'd seemed most keen on stopping Corypheus. Now that he was gone, there wasn't any reason for him to stay. They made the rest of the return trip to Skyhold in relative silence. The sound of cheers greeted their arrival back at Skyhold. Up above, they could see Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen waiting, all three smiling, though Josephine's was the brightest. Thom hung back with the others while Malika climbed up the stairs to meet the three advisors. After curtseying while Cullen and Leliana bowed, Josephine stepped forward to hug Malika tight, pressing her face into the dark red hair. After a long moment, Josephine reluctantly released Malika and all four moved to smile down at the Inquisition. Everyone cheered for Malika, Thom right along with them. He couldn't be prouder of his ladies.

*

"My lady Inquisitor, leaving your own celebration so soon?" Thom asked as Malika approached the door to her quarters.

She turned back to see Thom and Josephine standing nearby, smiling fondly. "May we join you, my love?"

"Of course." Smiling, Malika took their hands in hers and drew them with her through the door.

Laughing, they traded kisses as they climbed up the stairs to their quarters. Once they reached the top, Thom looked between the two women, his smile soft and wondering. "We've been through a lot, haven't we?"

"Yes, we certainly have." Josephine agreed, slipping an arm around Thom's waist.

Looking at the two of them together, Malika observed, "The destination was worth the journey."

"I'll never tire of how you see the best in everything… and everyone." Thom shook his head in disbelief. "Even after everything I've done, we're all still here. Together."

Josephine gasped softly and moved out onto the balcony to look out at the rising sun. "I--the celebrations appear to be winding down with the sunrise." She continued to stare at the sunrise. "I've never witnessed such a lovely sight."

"Nor I." Malika hardly spared the sun a glance, her eyes only on Josephine.

Josephine looked at Malika curiously and blushed when she realized Malika didn't mean the sunrise. "Sometimes your words are so sweet, they ache."

"That's love." Malika told her as she turned towards the dwarf.

Josephine gently corrected Malika. "That's you."

Thom chuckled, slipping his arms around them both as Josephine took Malika's hands in hers, warm and tender. "It's both, my lady Josie."

"It's been good to have this celebration, free of what the future holds," Josephine mused, tilting her head to rest on his shoulder. "Whatever awaits us, my loves, I know only one thing: I would never have either of you face it alone."

Malika smiled happily up at both of them. "I can't think of anything better than having you both at my side."

"I love you, Mal, Josie."

"I love you, too, Thom, Mal."

"And I love you both, Josie, Thom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not done yet! One more DLC to address.


	15. The Exalted Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years after Corypheus' death, it's time to decide what to do with the Inquisition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter is new and relies heavily on scenes from the Trespasser DLC.

"Another parade, another bloody negotiation," Cullen muttered as he, Josephine, and Malika arrived at the Winter Palace with all due pomp and ceremony.

Keeping her voice as quiet as Cullen's, Josephine reminded them, "Smiles, everyone. We must be careful how we present ourselves."

"Why did Divine Victoria call the Exalted Council?" Cullen asked, refusing to smile. Not that Josephine had expected otherwise from him. He had no patience for politics. "She's kept Orlais from bothering us for the last two years."

Stifling a sigh, Josephine reminded him, "At increasing political cost, yes. She has done all she can, but the Exalted Council has become necessary." Catching sight of Duke Cyril, she offered him a wave even as she explained, "Orlais would control us. And based on their many marriage proposals, they have specific plans for you." Cullen scowled and Josephine waved to Arl Teagan, who was watching their procession with a scowl on his face. "Our real concern is Ferelden. They would see us disbanded entirely."

"I want to do what's best for the Inquisition _and_ Thedas," Malika murmured over her shoulder, waving to a few other onlookers.

Their parade done, they guided their horses (and pony) to the stables. "Do you know what that is yet, Inquisitor?"

"Not a damn clue, Commander," Malika answered ruefully.

Josephine dismounted her horse with grace and poise, moving to gather Malika into her arms as she dismounted from her pony. "You'll figure it out, Mal. I have every faith in you."

"I'm glad one of us does," Malika murmured, reaching up to tap Josephine's locket through her uniform jacket.

Cullen cleared his throat loudly. "I understand some of our friends have arrived for the Exalted Council, Inquisitor."

"Thank you, Cullen. I look forward to seeing them." Malika smiled up at Josephine and drew her head down for a soft, sweet kiss.

Josephine pressed their foreheads together. "I know Thom was planning to come."

"He indicated as much to me, too," Malika smiled and kissed the tip of Josephine's nose. "Let's go. We all have things to do before this council officially begins."

With that, they left the stables together.

*

"Thom?" He smiled at the familiar voice, turning from the target he'd been throwing knives at while he waited.

His smile broadened when he saw Malika, looking more beautiful than he remembered in her Inquisition uniform. "And there she is. I've missed you, my lady."

"I've missed you, too, Thom," Malika smiled warmly up at him.

Much as he wanted to kiss her, they'd agreed that it would be best if people only thought Malika and Josephine were together. Instead, he settled for hugging her tight, breathing in the scent of metal and stone that always seemed to cling to her. In return, Malika seemed like she was trying to burrow into his gambeson. Quietly, he murmured, "I have to say, while I appreciated the letters, this is much better."

"Agreed." Malika smiled up at him, the warmth in her eyes conveying what she couldn't say.

They moved to a nearby bench and sat down, close enough to hold hands. Lightly squeezing Malika's hand, Thom requested, "So, tell me everything that happened while I was away."

"More meetings and letters to sort things out," Malika replied, returning the squeeze. "Part of me is glad that I wasn't risking my life every day, but another part of me, well..."

He chuckled, understanding what she couldn't put into words. "You missed it, didn't you?"

"It was exciting and I got to spend time with everyone," she confided, rubbing her thumb over the back of his glove. "These past two years, I've mostly spent time with Cullen and Josie."

Thom stifled a sigh. He'd missed his ladies, but he wasn't much for diplomacy and meetings. "I didn't mean to stay away for so long, but I owed a lot of people a lot of apologies."

"I understand and I'm not trying to make you feel guilty," Malika told him earnestly.

He nodded reassuringly. "I know, my lady." Sighing, he continued, "After the betrayal, and what I put those men through, my sorries were worth about as much as shit."

"How many people hit you?" She asked with a teasing smile.

Shrugging, Thom told her, "I lost count at twelve. But I can take a punch. They needed to know that there's a way to come back from anything. And I wanted to help them, if I could." He sighed heavily. "I thought going up there on the gallows was difficult. This was worse. A hundred times worse. Anyway..." he glanced down at her. "It's nice to be back, though I'm not sure what to think of this council." He stood up, unable to remain seated for long as he thought more on what the council could mean for them as well as the Inquisition. "Is it selfish of me to hope that you'll no longer need to be Inquisitor?"

"No." Malika stood up as well, her voice quiet. "I want the same. I want to spend the rest of my life on my own terms, without the fate of Thedas resting on my shoulders."

Nodding, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. They hadn't discussed what would happen to the three of them after the Inquisition. Now that it might happen, he wasn't sure what shape he wanted the future to hold. "I'll wait. For as long as it takes. No matter what, you know you can always count on my sword arm and my friendship."

"I never doubted that much, Thom," she replied, holding out her hand.

He placed one of the knives into it. Taking her place at the line, she threw it at the target. It lodged into the packed straw at the center. "I suppose there are times when even knives are your friends, my lady."

"I suppose so."

*

Malika hadn't been sure what to expect when Josephine suggested attending a light entertainment together. An opera with fireworks certainly hadn't been a remote possibility. Her attention kept straying from the performance to Josephine, who watched and applauded with enthusiasm. "But tell me: did you enjoy the performance?"

"The performance pales in comparison to the lovely lady I saw it with," she answered truthfully.

Josephine tsked, though a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth all the same. "You are sidestepping the question."

"Love leaves my tongue tied," Malika countered with a playful smile. She'd missed this in the midst of their preparations for the Exalted Council.

Her expression softening at that remark, Josephine told her, "Well, in that case, I suppose allowances can be made."

"I hoped so." Smiling, Malika stretched up as Josephine leaned down and they kissed each other, sweetly and softly while more fireworks exploded overhead.

After the opera, they made their slow way back to their rooms, occasionally pausing to share a kiss or two. When they entered their rooms, a familiar voice greeted them from the bed, "Good evening, my ladies."

"Thom!" A smile lighting her face, Josephine wasted no time climbing onto the bed to greet him with an enthusiastic kiss.

While she did that, Malika tugged first her boots, and then Josephine's off, leaving them in a haphazard pile on the floor while she climbed onto the bed, too. "Hello again, Thom."

"Mal." Thom smiled and opened his arms to Malika.

While she settled into his lap to kiss him like she'd wanted to earlier, she felt Josephine reaching between them to unbuckle her belt and remove it. "This was exactly the end to our evening that I'd hoped for."

"You mean you didn't _plan_ for Thom to be waiting for us?" Malika asked, gasping for breath when she pulled back from the kiss.

He shook his head when she looked at him curiously, helping to remove the sash wound around her waist and over her shoulder. "No, but when I heard you two had gone to the opera, I thought I'd surprise you when you got back."

"The best surprise we could have asked for," Josephine assured him, removing her uniform coat and hanging it up.

Malika nodded, pulling her gloves off and tossing them onto the pile with her sash and belt. Josephine, shaking her head with fond exasperation, gathered them up and set them on the table by the door alongside hers. Malika ran her fingers through the dark hair on Thom's chest. "I'd say it's time for a proper reunion, don't you?"

"Absolutely, my lady Mal," Thom agreed, helping Malika out of her coat.

Josephine, down to her breastband and smalls now, joined them on the bed. Malika lost herself in the joy and pleasure of being with both of her lovers again.

*

"Your agents confirm there are gaatlock barrels in Denerim's Palace?" Josephine asked Leliana, her heart sinking at the news.

Leliana nodded confirmation. "Yes, and in Val Royeaux, and across the Free Marches. The Winter Palace is not the only target."

"The Qunari are one order from destroying every noble house in the known world," Cullen pointed out, looking worried.

Josephine offered what hope she could from the situation. "There is a bright side: Warning the ambassadors will remind them of the Inquisition's value."

"Not when the Inquisition is responsible for that threat," Leliana countered.

Across the table, Malika looked upset. "This is our fault."

"Fault, no." Leliana shook her head. "But our responsibility."

Sighing deeply, Malika asked, "How did it happen?"

"The elven servant handling the barrels confessed to working for the Qunari," Leliana informed them calmly.

Josephine frowned, perplexed. "But the servant was Orlesian. That implicates Orlais, not us."

"But the barrels arrived at the Winter Palace on the Inquisition's supply manifest," Leliana explained, looking resigned.

Cullen gave an exasperated sigh. "How are we supposed to fight a war when we can't even trust our own people?"

"Do you know who got the barrels onto the Inquisition manifest?" Malika asked, a frown wrinkling her forehead.

Leliana nodded. "Yes. Several of the Inquisition's elven workers have gone missing. I had their backgrounds checked. They joined the Inquisition after fleeing the chaos in Kirkwall."

"I remember when Kirkwall was at its worst," Cullen remarked, shaking his head slightly. "Many of the city's elves converted to the Qun, trying to find a better life."

Josephine sighed, resigned. "And the Qunari turned them into spies."

"A few years ago, we railed at the mages at Redcliffe for becoming corrupt," Malika commented, still looking upset. "We did the same to the Grey Wardens." She gave a bitter laugh that Josephine hoped to never hear from her again. "Look at us now."

Josephine couldn't quite keep her own voice steady, "I fought to protect the Inquisition in this Exalted Council. And for what? So we could deceive and threaten those we claimed to protect?"

"Once we locate the spies--" Cullen told her, looking stern.

Josephine interrupted him, exasperated that he didn't understand. "This isn't _about_ the spies!" She looked at Leliana. "You hid the Qunari body." She looked back at Cullen. "You've all but seized control of the Winter Palace!"

"We did what was right, not what was politically convenient!" Cullen countered angrily.

Not for the first time, she was frustrated that Cullen refused to worry about politics. "Do you know what this has cost us with Orlais and Ferelden? They are planning to dismantle us as we speak!" She looked down, her anger fading. "And perhaps they are right."

"Hnnnnnngh!" Malika's cry of pain distracted them from their argument. She was hunched over her left arm, which glowed with familiar green energy. Horrified, Josephine wondered how long the Anchor had been acting up and why Malika had kept it from her. She looked up as they gathered in front of her, tears standing in her eyes. "The mark is... I thought it was fine. It's been under control for years. All the demons I fought, all the rifts I closed..." Her shoulders slumped and she added in a very small voice. "I don't want to die." Josephine drew in a shaky breath, not liking the thought of Malika dying. "Not knowing that the world still needed me. So I'm going to the Darvaarad."

Giving up on composure, Josephine stepped forward and hugged Malika tightly, pressing her face into Malika's dark red hair, memorizing the scent of metal and stone. Her love hugged her back, pressing her face into Josephine's shoulder. "I love you, Mal."

"I love you, too, Josie." Malika eased back enough to pull Josephine down into a last desperate, loving kiss.

While they still held each other, Leliana said, "Thank you, Inquisitor."

"Would you... would you like us to inform the Exalted Council of the danger?" Josephine asked, her arms still around her love.

Malika nodded, reluctantly easing back from Josephine's embrace. "Yes. If we fail, the Exalted Council needs to know what happened."

"I will inform them personally," Leliana assured her.

Her voice still a little shaky, Josephine told her, "Leliana, I can..."

"No. Your job is hard enough already." Leliana looked apologetic. "This is my responsibility."

Cullen, looking uncomfortable, told Malika, "I'll have guards ready at the eluvian, in case the Qunari attack the palace."

"Maker watch over you." Leliana told her.

Josephine drew Malika into a last embrace. "Please come back, my love."

"I will do my best, Josie."

*

"I need to do this alone," Malika told them, her posture stiff with pain.

Fighting back tears, Thom pulled Malika into a last embrace, pouring all of his love and worry for her into one more kiss. "Come back to us, my lady."

"That's my plan, Thom." She sighed when he pressed their foreheads together. "I love you so much, Thom."

He tried to stifle a sob, but didn't fully manage it. "I love you, too, Mal."

"You need to let her go, Rainier," Iron Bull told him, resting a big hand on his back.

Reluctantly, Thom released Malika and let her step through the eluvian. Tears leaking down his cheeks into his beard, he began to pace. Neither the Iron Bull nor Dorian said anything as they sat together on the nearby broken wall. Without a word, Dorian began healing Iron Bull's injuries. Once he finished, the Iron Bull tugged him into his lap and held him close. For once, Dorian didn't protest, simply resting his cheek against his lover's chest. The simple, quiet affection made Thom's heart ache. How many times had he done exactly that with Josephine or Malika? How many times had the three of them simply curled up together and just sat, quietly enjoying each other's company? Now, if Solas couldn't help Malika, that might be at an end. He and Josephine might lose Malika after all. Everything they'd built in the last four years would mean nothing if Malika didn't survive this magic. He and Josephine would still have each other, but there'd always be a gap there. He'd just turned to start another circuit when the eluvian rippled and a familiar figure stumbled out. "Mal!"

"Told you... I'd... come back..." she murmured haltingly, her face streaked with tears.

As Thom quickly gathered her close, Dorian joined them. "Vishante kaffas. Her _arm_."

"I guess it was lose her arm or her life," Iron Bull remarked, his voice gruff.

Dorian held his hands over Malika, who'd either fallen unconscious or asleep. "There's no sign of the deterioration we saw earlier. Her body is in shock from the removal, but Mal's strong. She should make a full recovery."

"My lady," Thom murmured, pressing his forehead to hers once more.

He was vaguely aware of the Iron Bull and Dorian helping him to his feet. Most of his focus remained on Malika, limp in his arms. "We need to get back. Let the others know that the threat of a Qunari invasion has been neutralized."

"I've done what I can for Mal," Dorian added, resting a hand on her remaining arm where it hung limp. "The rest is up to her."

Nodding, Thom started for the other eluvian with Dorian and the Iron Bull, They'd done what they could for everyone. Now they needed to do what they could for Malika. When they finally reached the Winter Palace, the rest of their friends waited, exclaiming when they saw Malika in Thom's arms. Sera stepped forward first, reaching out to touch Malika's back. "Glowy! Is she-- she's not--"

"She's alive," Thom told her, speaking loud enough for the others to hear.

As they began moving towards the door, Dorian added, "Her body's in shock from losing her arm, but she'll recover."

"Her arm? There was no other way?" Varric asked the question, falling into step with them.

The Iron Bull shrugged. "Don't know. Never really understood this magic crap."

"It _was_ killing her when she first emerged from the Fade," Cassandra mused, looking worried. "I suppose it wasn't going to remain stable forever."

Thom had been looking around at the others as they walked and realized that three of their number were missing. "Where're Josephine, Cullen, and Leliana?"

"Orlais and Ferelden insisted on resuming the Exalted Council, without Malika if necessary," Vivienne explained, reaching out to lightly stroke Malika's hair.

He sighed deeply, kissing her forehead. "Right, of _course_ they did." He shook his head. "Someone needs to let them know that the Qunari threat has been neutralized."

"I will do so." Cassandra touched a hand briefly to Thom's shoulder before striding off towards the council chamber.

Kissing Malika's forehead, Thom continued towards her chambers.

*

For the first time in _months_ , Malika didn't wake up to a dull ache in her hand. Before she even opened her eyes, the scent of woodsmoke, armor polish, and leather told her that she was in Thom's arms. She could feel his gambeson under her cheek, the soft material almost better than a pillow. She could feel someone pressed against her back. The lack of Josephine's familiar scent of ink, parchment, and flowers suggested one of their other friends. Slowly opening her eyes, she glanced down to see Dorian's arm draped across her waist below Thom's. Shifting to peer over her shoulder, she saw that the Iron Bull lay behind Dorian, a massive arm draped across his waist. Turning back to Thom, she smiled when she saw that he was awake, gazing at her with relief. "My lady."

"Thom," she whispered, frowning when she tried to cup his cheek, but something was wrong with her arm. She looked at it and couldn't stop a cry of dismay. "I thought I dreamed it. He really did remove it."

He nodded, leaning down to kiss her softly. "How long had it been bothering you?"

"It started aching constantly a few months ago," she admitted quietly, feeling Dorian's breathing pattern change. "I figured it would go away eventually."

Sera's face popped up over Thom's shoulder, her friend glaring at her. "But it didn't go away. It got worse."

"Who all is in here?" Malika wondered, startled by Sera's appearance.

Chuckling, Thom helped her sit up so she could see the rest of the room. Varric sat at the dwarf-sized table, playing a card game with Cole. Cassandra sat in the chair by the door, a book in her lap. Vivienne lounged on the chaise longue. "Is it any surprise, my lady?"

"I--" she stopped and swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. For all that some of them didn't really get along, it hadn't occurred to her that they might set aside their differences for _her_. "Thank you."

The Iron Bull slid off the bed and to his feet. "We'll let you two talk now. Let's go, Kadan."

"Yes, Amatus." Grumbling, Dorian nevertheless kissed Malika's cheek before sliding from the bed as well.

The others stood and began filing from the room. Sera was the last to leave, giving a cheeky wave before she closed the door behind her. Malika turned to Thom. "Where's Josie? And Cullen and Leliana?"

"The Exalted Council resumed in your absence," Thom told her quietly, brushing her hair back from her face. "Apparently, Arl Teagan has been _particularly_ annoyed that you haven't rejoined them now that the Qunari threat is gone."

She nodded, her jaw tightening. "He wants the Inquisition gone."

"I thought you did, too," Thom pointed out, looking surprised.

Malika sighed. "I _did_ , yes, but things have changed." She reluctantly eased out of his arms so she could slide from the bed. "I know what I need to do. Help me dress?"

"Of course, my lady." He helped her change out of her tunic and pants and into the Inquisition uniform. They pinned the end of the left sleeve up so it'd be out of her way. Before she left her rooms, she found the writ authorizing the establishment of the Inquisition.

Carrying that in her one remaining hand, Malika headed to the council room, ignoring the whispers and comments that trailed in her wake. Cullen met her outside the chamber, taking in her appearance at a glance before saluting. He nodded to the guards, who opened the door for Malika. As she walked to the front to join Josephine, Teagan sighed and said, "No one has forgotten what you have done. But Corypheus is two years dead. If the Inquisition is to continue, it must do so as a legitimate organization, not a glorified mercenary band."

"Inquisitor?" Josephine greeted her, hazel eyes widening for a moment and a smile twitching at her lips for an even briefer moment.

Malika smiled briefly up at her love before holding up the writ so everyone could see it. "You all know what this is. A writ from Divine Justinia authorizing the formation of the Inquisition." As she spoke, she turned to address the men and women gathered to watch the proceedings. "We pledged to close the Breach, find those responsible, and restore order. With or without anyone's approval." Off to one side, she could see Cassandra nodding and smiling, clearly recognizing her own words, spoken in Haven's Chantry almost four years ago. Malika wasn't done yet, though. "You're right, Arl Teagan. We are dangerous. We've been deceived, and we've made mistakes. You're right as well, Duke Cyril. These are the growing pains of a young organization in need of guidance. But you would both have the Inquisition bow to your agenda, and that is precisely what we cannot do." She took a deep breath and announced the solution she'd come up with while she'd been busy chasing the Qunari, and then Solas through the eluvians. "The Inquisition will act as Divine Victoria's personal honor guard." Ignoring the surprised whispers from behind her, she explained her idea more fully. "Answering directly to her, we will transition from a military force into a peacekeeping organization. My own adventuring days may be done, but the Inquisition--and its mission---will continue."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the reason I didn't write any of the above chapter last year was that I hadn't _played_ Trespasser yet. I finally did, though, and here we are.


	16. Wrap Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the Inner Circle to part ways one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's finished! The last scene is a repeat, but the other two are new.

With so much to do to prepare for the Exalted Council, Josephine hadn't taken time to stand and do nothing for _months_. Now, she stood with Thom and the rest of the Inquisition's inner circle, staring up at the remains of the Breach in the sky. She blinked when she felt Thom shift at her side and turned to see that Malika, still wearing her formal uniform, had joined them, slipping her remaining hand into Josephine's. Smiling, she squeezed her love's hand gently. "How are you feeling, my love?"

"Better for being here with you," Malika replied, lightly returning the squeeze.

After another few minutes, Vivienne took her leave of Malika, bowing to the dwarf and clasping her hand warmly. "I have much to do now that mages can take charge of their lives."

"Thank you for everything you've done for the Inquisition, Vivienne," Malika answered with complete sincerity.

Vivienne's answering smile, though small, was just as sincere. "Of course, my dear. If there's anything else I can do for you, just ask."

"I will keep that in mind," Malika assured her.

Cullen addressed her once Vivienne left, saluting crisply. "I will stay and command the Inquisition's forces as long as you need me."

"Thank you, Cullen," she smiled and extended her hand. "We'll have to talk with Josephine and Leliana about how to put this transition into practice."

He nodded, shaking her hand after a moment of hesitation. Quietly, he added, "Thank _you_ for having faith in me when I had none."

"You are stronger than you know, Cullen," she told him, keeping hold of his hand when he would have let go. "Please remember that."

He nodded, his shoulders straightening at her words. "I will."

"It's been an honor to serve the Inquisition," Cassandra told Malika after Cullen departed, offering her hand. "It is time I rebuilt the Seekers."

Malika shook Cassandra's hand. "Will you stay on the Exalted Council?"

"I already promised Leliana I would," Cassandra replied, allowing her hand to drop to her side. "She and I do not always agree, but I've come to respect her and her judgment."

Nodding, Malika smiled when Cole moved to stand before her, looking uncertain. "It's time for you to go?"

"It is." He nodded, finally stepping forward to give her an awkward hug. "There are others I can help if Maryden's music doesn't."

She chuckled, squeezing his hand when he drew back. "Of course. I wish you both the best."

"Thank you." He bent to whisper something to her before wandering off.

Leliana hugged Josephine, whispering, "I'm glad you three are happy, Josie."

"I hope you find happiness with Laina and Zevran soon," Josephine whispered back. She knew Leliana had missed her lovers greatly over the last few years.

Squeezing Josephine gently, Leliana released her and turned to hug Malika, this one a little more awkward. "It has been a privilege to watch you grow into a leader to be reckoned with, Malika."

"You were instrumental in that growth, Leliana," Malika reminded her. "Thank you for your assistance in that."

Leliana shook her head slightly. "Thank _you_ for reminding me that kindness can accomplish more than cruelty."

"Lives are valuable and shouldn't be ended if we can avoid it," Malika told her earnestly.

Inclining her head slightly, Leliana moved to Thom, whispering something that Josephine couldn't hear. He nodded and whispered something back. She nodded in return and they clasped hands before she left. Varric approached next, hugging Malika warmly. "Don't forget, you have a place in Kirkwall if you want it, Blue."

"I don't know when I'll be free to do anything about it," Malika told him, glancing up at Josephine and Thom for a moment.

Grinning, Varric told her, "What about your mother and sister? They can take care of the property for you. Even hold that seat in the Merchants' Guild."

"That's brilliant, Varric." Malika grinned back. "I'll write to them as soon as I can."

He nodded. "Tell them to find me at the Hanged Man once they get to Kirkwall. I'll help them from there."

"I will. Thank you, Varric." Malika hugged him again.

Laughing, he returned the hug and stepped back, nodding to Josephine and Thom. "See you, Ruffles, Hero. Keep Blue happy, all right?"

"Always, Varric," Thom promised, shaking Varric's hand.

Josephine smiled when he took her hand and kissed the back. "Of course, Viscount Tethras."

"Now I know why Blue kept complaining about being called Inquisitor." Varric shook his head with a rueful smile before heading after the others.

Sera took the chance to hug Malika tight. "Even when you stop being the Inquisitor, you'll still have friends to call on, wherever you go."

"Thanks, Sera." Malika returned the hug with a smile. "I'll... keep that in mind."

She nodded, ruffling Malika's hair, which she'd left loose for once. "You do that, Stubby."

"How long did it take you to come up with that?" Malika asked before Josephine could object to the new nickname.

Sera grinned. "Can't call you Glowy anymore."

"No, thank goodness," Malika agreed, the remains of her left arm twitching at her side.

Sera addressed Thom next. "Can't call _you_ Broody anymore, either." She prodded his cheek. "Too happy."

"My ladies make me _very_ happy, yes," Thom agreed, catching Sera's hand and squeezing it lightly. "You've been a good friend, Sera."

She hugged him. "Just be happy, Beardy."

"I will, Sera." He returned the hug, tight enough to lift her feet off the ground.

Laughing, Sera wiggled until he set her down. Then she offered her hand to Josephine. "Keep them happy, Lady Josie."

"I will, Sera." She returned the handshake with a smile, relieved that Sera hadn't insisted on hugging her.

Grinning, Sera darted off. Last of all, Dorian and Iron Bull gathered Malika into a group hug. "If you need the Chargers for anything, you get a discount, Boss."

"Thank you, Bull." Malika seemed content to remain perched on his massive forearm for the moment. "I'll miss you two."

Dorian kissed her cheek. "That's why I gave you the sending crystal."

"Be careful in Tevinter, Dorian," she warned him, kissing his cheek in return.

Iron Bull chuckled, carefully setting her down on her feet. "He'll be fine, don't worry."

"You just take care of yourself, Mal." Dorian squeezed her hand gently.

Echoing the gesture, his massive hand swallowing Malika's, the Iron Bull left with Dorian. Alone with Malika, Josephine and Thom gathered her into a tight hug. Her voice choked, Malika murmured, "I love you both. So much."

"I love you both, too," Thom murmured gruffly, kissing the top of Malika's head, and then Josephine's cheek.

Josephine kissed his cheek, and then the top of Malika's head. "I love you two as well."

They stood and held each other for a long time, just enjoying the momentary quiet before turning their attention to reducing the Inquisition to a smaller peacekeeping force.

*

Thom had little to do while Malika and Josephine spent hours in meetings with Leliana and others, coordinating the reduction of the Inquisition's forces and influence. After a couple days of boredom, he sought out Dagna. She smiled brightly at his approach, "Oh, hey, Thom. Sera said you were sticking around."

"Hello, Dagna." Thom clasped her extended hand with both of his. "I have a bit of a challenge for you and Harritt."

She tilted her head, eyes sharpening with curiosity. "Oh? Is this for the Inquisitor?"

"Actually, yes." He nodded, relieved that she seemed to guess where his thoughts were headed. "Mal's putting on a brave face, but I know she's struggling."

Dagna gestured for him to follow her. "I've been sketching ideas. The first one was actually Sera's: a crossbow that can be attached to her arm."

"How would she fire it?" Thom asked, remembering his training. "Regular crossbows have a triggering mechanism."

She laughed, scratching the back of her head. "I'm still working that out. I also thought of creating prosthetics that she can use to help her create jewelry."

"I think that would help her greatly," he confirmed with a relieved nod. "She once told me that dwarves value the ability to fight and craft."

Dagna nodded back, grinning. "Yes, definitely. Without her arm, how can she do either?"

"Exactly." Thom agreed. "Also, if you could design a prosthetic that can help her with basic tasks like dressing or even feeding herself, that would help immensely."

Tilting her head thoughtfully, she chewed her lower lip for a moment. "I'll see what I can do. Fine control like that isn't easy to reproduce."

"I'm not asking that you create something that will allow her to play Maryden's lute," he assured her. "Just something that she can use to hold things in place so she _can_ use her remaining hand."

Dagna nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"That's all I ask. Thank you, Dagna." Thom knew it would take time and it was enough to know that she'd started working on it.

She grinned, clasping his hand again. "I'm always glad for a challenge."

"Glad I could provide." He chuckled, leaving her to her work.

*

Malika had never been body shy. Growing up in a small house, and then working for the Carta had cured her of any modesty. Since the loss of her arm (and the Anchor with it, thank the Stone), she'd hesitated to undress completely in front of her lovers. Before, they'd often bathed together, but now Malika insisted on complete privacy while she bathed, a request Josephine and Thom reluctantly granted. Washing with one hand was difficult, but manageable. Then, one day happened where _everything_ went wrong and _nothing_ went right. When Malika tried to take a bath to wash away the terrible horribleness of the day, even _that_ went wrong and she just _sat_ in the seat at the side of the tub and pressed her remaining hand to her mouth, desperately fighting back tears, _yet again_. As she sat there, someone knocked on the door to the bathing room. "My lady, are you all right?"

"May we come in?" Josephine's question followed hard on the heels of Thom's. They must have both been standing there.

A quiet whine escaped before Malika could stop it. Taking a deep breath, she decided it was time and managed to call out, "Yes."

"All right, we're coming in," Thom's words preceded the opening of the door and Malika sat miserably in the water as her lovers entered.

Both had already changed in preparation for their own baths, towels wrapped around them for modesty's sake. A distant part of Malika admired them as they approached, the towels somehow making them _more_ enticing by hiding rather than revealing. They stopped near where Malika still sat, doing her best to hide what remained of her left arm. "My love?"

"J-Josie." Malika gulped, feeling tears well in her eyes. "T-Thom."

With that, she burst into tears, giving vent to the emotions she usually swallowed until her temples ached and her eyes burned. Malika hardly noticed that Thom and Josephine slipped into the water on either side of her until Josephine gathered her close and she felt Thom's chest pressing against her back. Still crying, she buried her face in Josephine's shoulder and reached down to grip Thom's arm with her one hand. How long they sat there while she cried, Malika had no idea. Gradually, she became aware of Thom humming tunelessly, his chest vibrating pleasantly against her back, and Josephine stroking her dark red hair, which now fell below her shoulders when she didn't have it pulled back. In time, her tears, and accompanying sobs, slowed and finally stopped. She relaxed between her lovers with a quiet exhale. Thom kiss the top of her head. "Better, my lady?"

"Y-yes." Malika hiccupped, reluctantly releasing his arm so she could wipe at her face.

Josephine gently tilted her head up and kissed the tip of her nose. "You don't need to be strong for us, Mal. We're here to support you."

"It's what love is," Thom added, kissing her cheek. "It doubles the joy and halves the sorrow."

A small smile curving her mouth, Malika asked, "What about when it's _three_?"

"Quadruples the joy and quarters the sorrow," Josephine answered promptly, as if she'd _expected_ the question, and kissed Malika's forehead.

Thom kissed her temple. "Stop shutting us out, Mal. You've barely let us touch you since the Council."

"I--I." She stopped and gulped, reluctantly shifting so she could extend the stump of her left arm. "How can I still call myself a dwarf when I can't _do_ anything? I can't shoot, I can't _make_ anything. All I'm good for is being a figurehead."

Josephine shook her head and hugged Malika once more. "That doesn't _define_ you, my love."

"As for not shooting or being unable to craft..." Thom shifted uncomfortably in the water. "I, um, spoke with Harritt and Dagna. About creating a prosthetic for you."

Blinking, Malika turned and stared at him. "You what?"

"You'd shut us out, Mal," Josephine reminded her, letting Malika turn to face Thom properly. "We weren't sure what to do."

Thom nodded. "I'd seen my share of missing limbs while I was a soldier. Most ended up with prosthetics of some kind. Harritt and Dagna have designed prosthetics that you can switch out, depending on what you want to do."

"Oh." Malika felt even smaller than she usually did, looking down as she thought back over the past month. She hadn't realized it, but she _had_ been shutting out her lovers. She'd barely kissed them, never let them see her naked, and usually slipped out of bed before they woke up in the mornings. Looking up at them, she told them, "I'm sorry."

Josephine smiled and kissed her softly. "We love you, my lady."

"And we forgive you, my love." Thom kissed her next.

Malika stared at them in surprise, and then narrowed her eyes. "You two are going to be _very_ dangerous together."

"You love us this way." Still smiling, Josephine kissed her again.

Thom moved closer, kissing Malika's neck. "And wouldn't change us for all the gold in Thedas."

"Stone help me, I _do_ love you both." She tilted her head back with a quiet moan. "Just the way you are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this! I have other ideas percolating in my head, but I need to focus on other things for the moment.


End file.
